


Enjoy Life

by Ymas



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 01:39:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6932641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ymas/pseuds/Ymas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Star Trek Into Darkness, Jim and Spock finally admit to their attraction to each other. And that’s when it starts to get complicated. Especially when adding duty and T’Pring to the equation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enjoy Life

**Author's Note:**

> This took me the best part of three years to write. For a while (quite a long while) I got so stuck, I doubted I would ever finish it.   
> But alas, in the end, it didn’t leave me alone until it was done!
> 
> The title makes little sense but I honestly couldn't think of anything else.
> 
> A few words of warning: Vulcans are a pretty annoying, prejudiced people, so if that bothers you, better don’t read. Also, I adore Bones as Jim’s best friend, so in my stories, he always plays a key role in Jim’s life.   
> I tried to follow canon as closely as possible. Please excuse any oversights or slight canon-bending to fit this story!

The first thing Jim sees after he wakes up from his coma is Bones, gruffly berating him for being so melodramatic. The second is Spock, standing slightly back, looking pristine and solemn as ever. 

So, in the beginning, it seems very much as if everything is in order, under control, business as usual. Just a little case of radioactive contamination, Bones has taken care of it. Not a big deal. 

It doesn’t take long, though, for Jim to sense the lingering emotionality, the still-present confusion and distress in his friends. 

Because his friends they are, there is no denying it anymore, no matter what Starfleet might say about the matter. Captains befriending their crew. Never a good idea, that’s what they say.

Uhura visits first, just holding onto his hand and crying, fleeing the room when he tries to soothe her. 

Chekov is very uncharacteristically shy and quiet, half-hiding behind Sulu who compensates with excessive bravado, retelling the impossible maneuvers he’s pulled to keep the Enterprise from preceding the Vengeance. But just before they leave, Chekov reaches out and brushes trembling fingertips against Jim’s shoulder, only for a second, but the gesture is so tender and full of meaning it almost makes Jim cry. 

Scotty talks a blue streak as usual, but he never once properly looks at Jim. When he leaves, though, he stops just inside the door where he thinks Jim can’t see him and looks at him for a full long minute. He wipes his eyes before he quietly shuts the door. 

Bones crashes on the forth night after Jim has regained consciousness, and he crashes hard. He’s finally off shift and he’s drunk too much, but he comes tiptoeing back into Jim’s room in the middle of the night. Jim supposes Bones’ plan was to just sit by his bedside and make sure he’s alright, only he’s awake. And so Jim ends up rubbing circles into Bones’ forearm with his still annoyingly unresponsive fingers and reassuring him again and again that yes, he did everything right because yes, Jim is still very much alive. 

Jim wishes for nothing more than that he could share his friends’ burden. But he doesn’t remember anything after his mad dash through engineering with Chekov and he just can’t get himself to feel upset about something he has no memory of. It feels a little like letting Bones and the others down because he can’t relate to what they have been through. 

It’s later that same night when he finds out about Spock’s initial reaction to his apparent death. At first, he just can’t believe it and chalks it up to Bones’ alcohol-induced overactive imagination but Bones insists and Jim hasn’t really known him to exaggerate or lie when he’s drunk, only to lose the last of his inhibitions and be even more blunt and straightforward than usual. 

So, Spock has totally lost it, apparently. Cried over losing Jim, then hunted down Khan with every intention of killing him barehanded and with no regard for his own safety whatsoever. Jim can barely wrap his head around it. 

And he has a lot of time to try. He’s lying in his hospital bed in Starfleet Medical with not much else to do than sleep or think, waiting for either friends to visit or doctors to prod him. He’s been sleeping a lot lately, so, after Bones finally stumbles back to his temporary dorm on the Academy grounds in the early morning hours, he opts for thinking instead. 

He has been in love with Spock for quite a while now. It started with the realization of how incredibly well they work together, how they complement each other. That quickly turned into admiration. He’s practically begged Spock to become his first officer. In part because he’d known they’d make an awesome team, bust mostly because he’d recognized a kindred soul and was sure they could be great friends. And that was not because Elder Spock had told him so, he had his own knowledge of human nature, his own intuition and his own feelings, thank you very much!

Spock had, shortly after the almost-disaster the routine Phaedus scan-mission had turned into, reluctantly conceded to Jim that he sometimes feels lonely, despite the strange on/off-relationship he’s having with Uhura. Apparently, regardless of the various species working aboard the Enterprise, he still feels different and an outsider. With Vulcan gone, more so than ever. 

Jim knows lonely. After a fierce dressing down from Starfleet command after his first few missions, he had decided to take command lessons to heart and tried to distance himself from his crew. After all, a crew needs a leader, not a friend, that’s what they teach you at the Academy. You won’t be able to avoid unpopular decisions and you always, always, need to be capable of sending every single member of your crew into potentially fatal situations. So, of course, making friends among the crew is a bad idea. 

Jim has never actively tried to distance himself from Bones, of course. The man would have had none of it. But Bones seems to be always on shift. They are still one or two doctors short, so yeah, those first few missions have been full of loneliness. 

It was probably the reason why he and Spock have just naturally gravitated towards each other, sharing meals, doing rounds, supervising experiments, working out, playing chess, discussing crew rosters or the latest theories in warp technology. Now that Jim thinks of it, they must have spent an enormous amount of time together without him really noticing. 

By now, though, they have all settled into an easy routine. The crew accepts Spock as one of their own and Jim is sure that meanwhile he also feels accepted and is at ease among them. 

As for Jim himself, he has finally given up trying to be a distant muster-captain and is back to playing it by ear. And he thinks they are all doing quite alright. 

The only real problem Jim has no solution for is the fact that by now he doesn’t only feel attracted to, doesn’t only have a crush on, no, he is IN LOVE with his first officer. Capital letters. And now Bones has told him about Spock shouting Khan’s name in rage and agony, crying when he thought Jim was dying. With the knowledge that Spock has stayed calm in the face of Pike’s abduction, Pike’s death, his own imminent death in a volcano or the Enterprise tumbling to its destruction, Jim is pretty sure this can only mean that Spock, too, has very strong feelings for him. What exactly these feelings are and where that leaves Uhura, remains to be seen. 

Shit, Uhura. Jim really doesn’t know what the relationship between his first and his communications officer is, exactly. Uhura seems frequently dissatisfied or disappointed with it and kind of breaks it off every now and then, but they always seem to end up back together. Jim snorts a little to himself, thinking that as far as Spock is concerned, he probably thinks they are together all the time. Subtlety is wasted on him and Uhura has to totally spell it out if she wants something or gets irritated about something and Jim is pretty sure Spock still mostly doesn’t get it. It’s endearing. To Jim. Probably less so to Uhura. 

But Jim knows Spock enjoys her company and Uhura must be madly in love with him or she wouldn’t put up with all the bullshit he pulls and Jim would never, ever, go between them, ever. He sighs. Besides, it’s not as if Spock has visited him even once since he’s woken up. 

 

________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bones is back at the hospital late that afternoon. He has dark blue bags under his eyes and is grumpier than usual, but when he helps Jim sit up on the edge of his bed, Jim hugs him anyway. Hard. He knows Bones will never talk about last night and that’s just fine by him. But he still needs his friend to know how grateful he is to have him in his life and that he’s sorry for what he’s put him through. 

By the way Bones clings to him for a long moment, Jim knows the message has gone through. Then the Doctor slaps his shoulder and gruffly orders him to get his lazy ass out of bed. They walk twice around his room and it’s ridiculous how exhausted Jim is afterwards. He falls asleep to a nurse taking yet another blood sample. 

 

Jim is soon put on physical therapy. It’s vicious. He’s always tired and sore, but at least he makes fast progress. He asks Bones after Spock once and is told a story about lots of debriefing and little time. He knows it’s bullshit, no debriefing takes 24/7, but he doesn’t say anything. To be honest, he’s quite relieved he doesn’t have to face him right away. He doesn’t know how he would react und is glad he gets some more time to think about all these new implications. Not that thinking about it has brought him any nearer to an answer, so far. 

As soon as he’s back on his feet, about 6 weeks after he’s first regained consciousness, his own debriefing starts. There’s meeting after meeting. Spock still hasn’t contacted him and Jim doesn’t either, because with every day that goes by it seems more awkward to just comm him as if nothing has ever happened. 

 

________________________________________________________________________________________

 

It’s almost two months since Jim has last seen Spock and he’s just finished another session with one of Starfleet’s psychologists. They are trying to find out if he’s stable enough to be reinstated as Captain and get his ship back. They just won’t take his word for it, damn them. 

He’s running down the stairs, taking two steps at a time because he’s late and he really wants to swing by Pike’s memorial marker before his PT session at Starfleet Medical starts. Skidding around the corner on the second floor landing, he slams right into Spock. 

Spock freezes, standing solid like a pillar and Jim has to grab the banister to keep his balance.   
“Uh, hi…”  
Spock stares at him. He just stands there and stares.   
Jim feels heat working its way up his neck, knows he’s blushing and there’s nothing he can do about it.   
“I… uhm…”  
He gestures vaguely down the stairs and when Spock doesn’t react he gives an awkward little wave.   
“Well, yeah, see you ‘round, then…”   
He starts down the next flight of stairs.  
“Jim.”   
Spock’s voice sounds kind of hoarse and desperate and Jim comes to an immediate halt just three steps down. He looks back and Spock has turned around to face him.   
The Vulcan swallows convulsively, once, twice, then: “It is good to see you. I find that I have missed you.”  
And Jim is transported back to another place, another time, when he’d told Spock he would miss him and Spock had not been able to find words.   
He’s grateful his face is already flushed or he would be blushing like a girl all over again.   
He’s still at a loss for words when Spock, with a last lingering look at Jim, turns around and continues to slowly, evenly, climb the stairs. 

Jim walks down and outside, far slower than before and flops onto a bench next to the entrance. He turns his face into the sun, closes his eyes and tries to think. 

They need to go back to normal. They can’t behave awkwardly around each other because Jim has no intention of losing a friend. Or a first officer for that matter.   
And because everything, emotions, feelings, friendship, intuition, all that shit is so much more difficult to process for Spock as a Vulcan, it’s probably up to Jim to make things go back to normal. 

 

So, when Jim spots Spock at the other end of the Academy mess hall the next morning after he’s finished his breakfast, he gets himself another glass of orange juice and plunks down into the chair opposite with a grin and a cheerful: “Heya, how’s it going?”

Spock looks up from his yoghurt; spoon halfway to his mouth and promptly freezes, staring. Again.   
Jim lets his grin grow wider and slumps back in his chair. Spock stares for a few long moments more, then rapidly blinks twice and visibly unfreezes. He finishes the motion of his hand, bringing the spoon to his mouth and swallowing the yoghurt before carefully setting it down next to his bowl. 

“It is good to see you are well, Jim”, he says quietly.   
“Yeah, haven’t seen much of each other lately, have we?” Jim muses. Spock doesn’t answer and Jim doesn’t expect an explanation. They both know they have been avoiding each other.   
“What are you up to, today?” he asks instead.   
“I am supervising the repair of the Enterprise’s science lab”, Spock answers and it’s almost as if everything is back to normal.   
“Lucky you”, Jim sighs. “I’m in for another session with the shrink. They’re redoing my psych evals. Bones says not to worry, though, they’ll turn out fine. I mean, how can I be traumatized when I really can’t remember being dead?”  
Spock flinches. Hard. Ouch. Wrong topic, you insensitive bastard! Change of subject, change of subject…Jim gazes at the ceiling.   
“I can’t wait to be back in space, Spock. I miss it like crazy. What about you?”  
There’s no answer and when Jim looks back over at him, he realizes that Spock has gone very still. Only the hand lying next to his spoon has clenched into a fist so tight there are tremors.   
Dread works its way up from Jim’s gut to his throat.   
“What?” he chokes. “Spock, what is it?”  
Spock’s eyes are fixed onto his yoghurt bowl. He deliberately unclenches his fist before speaking to the table. “I will not come with you, Jim. I will resign from active service and apply for a position as instructor at the Academy.”

It takes Jim several seconds to process the words and when he does, he’s stunned into silence.   
Spock slowly raises his head and his eyes search Jim’s. Jim can see the plea in them and it’s the one thing that keeps the anger at bay, keeps him from jumping up and starting to shout, from exploding.   
Careful, now. 

He leans forward. “Why?” he asks softly.   
Spock fidgets. Jim could never have imagined a Vulcan fidget, but Spock does just that. He shifts in his chair, clasps his hands, unclasps them, and doesn’t seem to able to meet Jim’s eyes.  
Finally: “I seem to be emotionally compromised over you.”  
“…I…you…what??”  
“I have reason to expect that I would be unable to adequately perform my duties on a starship if you were also on board. As I also find myself reluctant to serve on another vessel, without you on board, I have decided to apply for a position at the Academy.”  
It’s Jim’s turn to stare and he does.   
Spock finally looks at him and his eyes are dark and sad. “I am sorry, Jim.”  
Jim feels his heart beat in his throat and he can’t think of a single thing to say, because this just can’t be true, this is unfair and utter bullshit, and huge, and…

And Spock gets up, picks up his tray, says “My shuttle leaves in 16 minutes” and with that, he’s gone.

Jim sits motionless for a long time, trying to process the situation, until his comm beeps and his psychologist asks why he isn’t keeping his appointment. 

 

The session with the psychologist is grueling and it’s made even worse by the fact that Jim can’t concentrate.   
When she finally dismisses him, he skips lunch and instead jogs over to the Starfleet Memorial Garden. For every Starfleet member killed in action there is a small boulder with their name on it. It’s devastating to see how the field of rocks has grown since Jim has started training at the Academy and he can barely stand to look at it. 

It’s been a mild and sunny day, but now afternoon fog starts to creep in and Jim is surprised but pleased to realize he’s the only one wandering through the memorial. He needs this, the solitude, the quiet. He weaves through the stones with their name plaques, many of them he recognizes, most he doesn’t. 

He’s usually good at suppressing. It would be impossible to get on with life if he wasn’t. He just refuses to think about all that has happened and all that might have happened with Nero, doesn’t think about the loss of life, about the loss of a whole planet with a culture so ancient earth seems young by comparison. 

But here he can’t ignore it, can’t push it out of his mind, because it jumps at him from every corner, screams at him from every stone, it’s overwhelming. It’s the reason why he never comes here. Not out of a lack of respect for the dead, but because he tries to preserve his sanity. 

Only today, there’s something he needs to do. 

He finds Pike’s boulder near the beach and after studying the short inscription for a moment he sinks to his knees. This is not Pike’s grave, his body has been sent back to his relatives, but it’s as close as he can get to his friend and mentor. He digs the Medal of Honor out of his pocket, the one he’s received after the Narada-incident, and scratches at the dirt at the bottom of the stone with his fingernails until he’s made a shallow indentation. He carefully places the medal into it, shoves at it until it’s half-hidden under the stone, then shovels the dirt back over it. 

For Jim, the medal has never been a reward for his role in stopping Nero, that was team work. He doesn’t feel like he should have been singled out for that. Everyone has given everything they had and he could have never done it alone. No, the medal was his reward for saving Pike’s live. He’s kept it on a shelf in his dorm, later it has accompanied him on every mission. Every time he’s looked at it he’s thought of the look on Pike’s face when he’d burst into his prison cell on the Narada. Looking at it has never failed to put a smile on his face. Now, it just hurts. It was all for nothing, He’s bought Pike a few more years, but the result is the same either way. The man is dead. 

He squats on his haunches and stares out at the bay where Alcatraz used to be. Khan missed Starfleet Headquarters and the Academy grounds by sheer coincidence, crashing onto the island before ploughing a path of destruction through the city instead. Thousands of civilians have lost their lives. If he turns his head just slightly to the right, he can see the disk of the huge star ship still looming among the skyscrapers of San Francisco. 

A wave of profound sadness for all the souls and things lost washes over him, grief so deep he stops to fight it and allows the tears to fall. 

 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there, one arm resting on Pike’s boulder, gazing out at the destruction with tears running down his face, when he feels a tentative hand on his shoulder. 

He startles a little but automatically expects it to be Bones. He doesn’t check the emotion on his face when he turns around. But it’s not Bones. It’s Spock. 

Jim quickly jumps to his feet, dabbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his uniform tunic and trying to get himself back under control. But then he gets a good look at Spock’s face and the sight of sheer sorrow in his First’s unguarded eyes tells him there is no need to be embarrassed. And when Spock reaches out and tugs at his elbow, Jim willingly takes a step forward and lets Spock wrap his arms around him. 

They stand for a long while, just holding onto each other in their shared grief.

When Jim finally steps back, Spock lets him. He walks a few steps to the edge of the garden and sits on a bench overlooking the bay. He doesn’t need to look back to know Spock has followed him.   
“What game are you playing, Spock?” he asks, voice hoarse from all the crying.   
Spock steps around the bench to stand before him.   
“I do not play games.”  
“Yes, you do. And I can’t play along. I’m confused and tired and I just can’t figure it out. I can’t keep guessing.”  
“I fail to comprehend your meaning, Captain.”  
Jim smiles tiredly. “Of course you do. Let me ask you a question, then: How would you describe your relationship with Uhura?”  
Spock looks confused at the sudden change of mood and topic. “It is mutually beneficial.”  
Jim sighs and leans back. “Explain.”  
Spock’s eyebrow raises.   
“Explain why you are in a relationship with her, why is it ‘mutually beneficial’?” Jim even air-quotes. What a stupid expression.   
Spock slowly sits down next to Jim, obviously contemplating the strange request. He is silent for a long time and just when Jim thinks he’ll get a rebuke, Spock starts to speak. 

“It appears that I will be unable to find a Vulcan mate”, he says slowly.   
Jim turns his head and raises both eyebrows.   
“Vulcans are bonded as children to a suitable partner their parents choose for them with the help of a healer. It is often a lengthy and difficult process to find a suitable counterpart. Not only is it important that the future bondmates stem from similar social standings, their minds also must be compatible. It is the duty of the healer to determine if this is the case once the parents have decided on a candidate.”  
Spock hesitates.  
“It proved to be very difficult for my father to find a match willing to bond with a half-human.   
While T’Pring herself was not willing, her father was. His house, although rich in ancestry, is poor in treasure whereas my father’s house is wealthy and of high social status. Her father ordered T’Pring to agree with the bonding.   
She broke the bond during her adolescence. A feat only possible if one is very strong-minded and determined.   
As a result, I have realized that it is highly unlikely any Vulcan woman would be willing to bond with me. I am half-human and, as such, an abomination and frowned upon.   
Instead, it is quite possible for me to be able to find contentment in a human partner. Uhura and I complement each other. We have similar interests and it is gratifying to spend our time together. She is the logical choice.”

Jim pretty much gapes. What a monologue and what a conclusion!  
“Sounds more as if you have resigned yourself to a relationship with Uhura.”  
“There may be preferable options but this is the most realistic and therefore logical one.” Spock almost sounds defensive.   
“Uh-huh. And where do I fit into this?”  
“Jim.” Wary now. “Where is this conversation leading to?”  
Adorable, Jim reminds himself. He finds Spock’s emotional cluelessness adorable when it’s directed at Uhura. So that’s what it is now, too. 

“Spock. By human standards, the signals you are sending are pretty clear. I mean, you must have realized sometime along the way, that I have feelings for you. Pretty strong feelings. So to me, it seems as if you’re coming on to me even though you’re in a relationship with Uhura. Because I really can’t remember you ever telling me you were emotionally compromised over serving with Uhura and she’s supposed to be your girlfriend. So tell me, what are your feelings for me?”

Spock looks decidedly uncomfortable. “I do not know about any signals and the concept of ‘feelings’ and ‘emotions’ is very foreign to me. But I will concede to the point that I am more compromised over you than over Uhura. It is the reason why I cannot continue to work in your proximity. It would influence the performance of my duties to the negative. Additionally, I could not continue to stand by and watch your disregard for your own safety.”

“I…” Jim swallows, head reeling with the effort to translate Spockian into the simple language his mind is able to make sense of in its exhausted state. It can only mean one thing: Spock returns his feelings. Spock does return his feelings!   
“That’s… Spock that’s awesome. Wow, we can… we… don’t worry, we’ll work something out, we’ll make it work…” he’s rambling now, all the risks but also all the possibilities flooding his mind at once. He grabs Spock’s arm. “Starfleet command won’t like it, but who cares and they don’t need to know right away we’ve still got ways to go before…”  
“Jim!” Spock pulls away so he can sit sideways and face Jim. He looks… scandalized? “Jim, what are you talking about?”  
Jim stops, confused. It’s as if they are talking in different languages. Every time he thinks he’s got it, the conversation takes a different turn.

“What? I think I’m in love with you, have been for a while and you just told me you feel the same. More or less. Isn’t this when we start dating for real? Sorry, I mean courting or whatever you Vulcans do when you get involved with each other?”  
A long pause.  
“Jim, we cannot pursue a relationship. It is illogical.”  
Jim stares, dumbfounded.   
Spock heaves the tiniest little sigh and talks as if explaining something very obvious to a very clueless child. “Vulcans mate for reproduction. A relationship between two beings of the same gender is the height of illogic. It serves no purpose and is unthinkable for post-revolutionary Vulcans. Whatever my emotions for you might be, Uhura is the logical choice.”

Jim stares. Blinks. Stares some more. 

“Yeeeeeaaaah…” he draws the word like chewing gum. “Of course. I see. Beware of those silly little humans who mate for something as illogical as affection and pleasure. How absurd they are.”   
He gets up. “That, by the way, was sarcasm.”

He walks away without a look back and locks himself in his dorm room. He ignores his appointment with Admiral Archer as well as his insistently beeping comm and when, hours later, Bones uses his medical override code, Jim is still sprawled face down on his bed, trying to shut out the world. 

 

After a long pep talk from Bones and a good night’s sleep thanks to his patented sleeping concoction (four parts hot chocolate, one part Saurian brandy, one part Southern Comfort and a generous sprinkling of marshmallows on top) Jim feels ready to take on the world again. 

He reschedules his appointment with Admiral Archer, accepts a position as guest instructor at the Academy for the time it takes to get the Enterprise into space again and resolves not to hold anything Spock said against him. Their upbringing has been completely different and Jim knows for a fact that Vulcans are not as tolerant or unprejudiced as they try to make everyone (probably even themselves) believe. How they are treating Spock is the best example for that. And while Spock himself is a very open-minded specimen, some things that are indoctrinated in childhood just stick. 

On earth, since the general acceptance of the Kinsey Scale about a century ago, the definitions of “gay” and “straight” have all but ceased to exist. Jim puts himself at a rating of 2, with about an 80-20 ratio in favor of girls.   
Vulcans, though, with their distrust of everything unpredictable or even slightly illogical don’t seem to have arrived at that stage yet.

There is only one thing Jim is certain of at the moment and it’s the fact that he won’t leave earth without Spock on board the Enterprise. How he’ll go about this, he has no idea yet. He’s just had about enough of an emotional rollercoaster and he’s in no hurry. The Enterprise will be in space dock for repair work for several more months, so Jim has time to breathe a little, concentrate on retaking his psych evals and see where the whole thing leads to. 

 

It honestly surprises Jim that Spock seems to actively seek his company over the next few weeks. Spock, too, has agreed to teach certain classes at the Academy in addition to helping restore the Enterprise’s computers. He suggests to Jim to prepare for their courses together and soon they regularly spend their late afternoons in an Academy rec room, going over their notes. Sometimes Spock brings his chess board and they conclude the evening with a game or two. Additionally, Jim is back to a light workout routine and Spock usually joins him for his morning runs. 

Whether Spock is trying to apologize for the rebuff or just feels involuntarily drawn to him, Jim can’t discern and he doesn’t care. He doesn’t question it, just enjoys the time they are spending together and it’s almost like before, like everything is back to normal, only somehow much more intense. 

No one mentions what has happened between them and Jim is trying hard not to think about it. He’s mostly successful, too, until one night when he and Bones are in Starfleet HQ’s main rec room, playing cards and drinking beer and bourbon, respectively. There’s no booze on Academy grounds where they have been assigned temporary living quarters, so every once in a while Jim and Bones catch a transport over to HQ to spend an evening. Neither of them has yet felt up to going into town for a night out. The ever-present destruction and the looming Vengeance would spoil any fun. 

Jim has already lost most of his coffee chips (there is free coffee from the replicators, of course, but the good stuff, made from real beans, costs a fortune) and Bones is halfway into his second bourbon when he nudges Jim’s knee with the tip of his boot and nods over to another corner of the room. There is Uhura, intently talking to Spock. Jim is sure no one else would notice, but he can downright sense the air of discomfort about Spock. 

Uhura seems to have made her point. She has her hands in her hips and looks challengingly up at Spock. Spock’s gaze flickers from Uhura’s face to the corner where Jim is sitting and back. He seems to deflate a little, then nods and walks out the door. Uhura’s smile is jubilant and a little self-satisfied when she follows him out. 

Jim watches them go and is just glad Uhura hasn’t followed Spock’s gaze. He also feels a little pang of jealousy but that is easily suppressed. 

“Poor girl”, Bones mumbles. “It’s just not fair on her. She seems to really love him and she’s all invested and shit and puts up with his asshole-behavior and to him? She’s just best of the rest.”  
“And how exactly is that my problem?” Jim snaps defensively and accidentally plays his worst card because it’s precisely what he’s been thinking, too, but he doesn’t want to go there.   
Bones shrugs, smoothly wins the game and swipes the rest of Jim’s coffee chips off the table and into his pocket.   
“It actually kind of is, but I guess you know that.”  
And of course it is. They are friends, they are a crew. They need to be able to work together. Honesty is a big part of that. He feels like he’s going behind Uhura’s back even though he and Spock are not doing anything, really.

 

The idea jumps him out of nowhere the next evening. After preparing their courses for the next day, he and Spock have played three games of chess and because Jim still hasn’t been able to wind down, they’ve decided to go for an evening jog. It’s late when they return and the Academy locker room is deserted.   
Freshly showered, clad only in his faded blue jeans, Jim is rummaging through his duffel bag for a shirt when, out of the corner of his eyes, he catches Spock looking. Well, staring, more like. 

Before he has a chance to think twice, Jim acts. He’s good at that. Acting on impulse.   
He abruptly straightens and closes in on Spock. 

If ever a half-Vulcan child has been caught with its hand in its fully human mother’s cookie jar, it must have looked just like Spock does now.

The Vulcan takes a startled step back and Jim closes in again. Another and Spock is backed up against the wall.   
Jim braces himself with a hand next to Spock’s head and leans in close into his personal space, but without touching him.   
Spock’s eyes are wide, but he doesn’t take them off Jim’s face and he doesn’t move.   
Jim stays in this position for a long minute until finally, Spock starts to breathe again. Then he leans the final inch forward and kisses him. 

Spock doesn’t kiss back, but he doesn’t move away, either, and when Jim reaches down with his other hand to entangle their fingers and simultaneously nips a little at Spock’s lower lip, the back of his head bumps against the wall and his jaw goes slack. Jim darts his tongue in and out, runs it once across the seam, then pulls back the merest inch. Spock makes a tiny movement as if to follow, then catches himself and stills. 

Jim rubs his fingers against Spock’s palm and presses their foreheads together.   
“And this”, he whispers into the space between their lips, “is going to go no further while you are in a relationship with Uhura.”   
He leans forward again and presses another kiss against Spock’s lips, quick and tender, before he pulls away and it’s an effort, why is it such an effort?  
He grabs his duffel in one hand, his shoes in the other and walks out as he is, barefoot and shirtless.   
By the time he reaches his quarters, he desperately needs another shower. 

 

Two days later, Jim walks out of Professor K’neth’r’s xenobiology class he’s been sitting in on because there’s always something interesting to learn, and walks right into a slap in his face. It’s Uhura and although her eyes are red and puffy, they shoot daggers and she looks ready to take him apart bone by bone. 

Jim is surprised by two things: First, that it didn’t take Spock longer to work things out. Second, that he must have told her Jim is the reason why he dumped her. He shouldn’t be, at least not by the second thing, as Vulcans, of course, don’t see the logic in concealing a truth just to protect a friend. 

He recovers quickly and pulls Uhura around the corner and into an empty classroom. If they’re gonna fight, they’re gonna do it in private.   
She slaps his hand away as soon as they get inside, then pulls herself up to her full height, facing him. “You asshole”, she spits. “I didn’t like you, I didn’t like you all through Academy, because I knew you were a false, deceitful, intervening bastard. But you actually got me to think you’ve grown up, you got me to like you and just when I thought we actually might be friends…!” 

Jim takes a step back before she can slap him again, holding up his hands. “I’m sorry”, he says. “I’m so, so sorry but believe me when I tell you I didn’t start this. I would have never, ever, interfered if I’d thought it was one-sided. But he came on to me all by himself in his very Vulcan way…”  
“You kissed him!!”  
“Yes, but that was only after! I wanted him to accept his own feelings, to act one way or another, because what he’s been doing is not fair to either of us. Not to you, not to me and least of all to himself.”

Jim has tears in his eyes because he’s so sorry and feels like the world’s biggest asshole and he’s really not sure if kissing Spock to force this decision was a good idea but what else could he have done? He’s only human after all and he has feelings too, and…

Uhura must have seen the sincerity in his face because she backs up a little and runs her hands over her face.   
“I love him, you know”, she says tiredly. “I love him but I always knew I am not what he really needs. I tried so hard to be understanding and make it good for him. I always expected I would lose him to a Vulcan woman sooner or later. I always thought that was what he really needed, a Vulcan bondmate, but that I would suffice until he found one. I was prepared; I could have lived with it. But to lose him to you of all people, it’s…” she shakes her head, at a loss for words. 

Jim hangs his head. “I know”, he says. “I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you something else. I just want him to be happy.”  
“And you think you can make him happy?”  
Jim looks into her eyes with all the sincerity he can muster. “I don’t know. But I’ll sure as hell try.”  
Uhura nods slowly. “You’d better.” 

 

Jim runs all the way over to the science labs, hoping Spock is teaching a class there so he can catch him before lunch. But Spock isn’t there and neither is he in the computer labs or at an early lunch in the mess hall.   
He has to hack into the shuttle bay’s passenger list because he’s still not reinstated as Captain and so doesn’t have the necessary security clearances. It’s so easy it’s annoying but not as annoying as finding out that Spock apparently hasn’t left earth to work on the Enterprise. He doesn’t answer his comm, either. Jim reluctantly concludes Spock wants to be left alone and replicates himself a sandwich for lunch. 

Late that afternoon, he is called to Starfleet Medical and finally gets his psych eval results. He’s tested out just fine, but he was never truly worried about that. He suspects it took them so long to make the results public because they just can’t believe he really came out of all this not a total nutcase. But he’s built his defences early and he can take about anything that’s thrown at him. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. 

On his way out he makes a detour into Treatment Ward 2 and asks for Dr McCoy. He’s surprised he only has to wait for about twenty minutes for Bones to meet him in the waiting room.   
He makes Bones buy him a cup of the good coffee in the cafeteria down the hall before he can’t contain himself any longer and informs him of the fact that he will soon be his boss again. Bones huffs and grouses about how he’d hoped for a ground-posting but no, now he’s got to go back up into the big bad black because Jim wouldn’t survive a single week without him and it’s gonna be the death of him yet. But Jim can see the smile that’s threatening to break through.   
He clinks his coffee cup against Bones’ and grins for them both. 

When Bones is called back into the ward, Jim jogs over to the building where Spock is assigned his temporary sleeping quarters. They are across campus from Jim’s but also on Academy grounds. He buzzes four times but Spock doesn’t open. Neither does he answer his comm, but Jim isn’t too surprised. Spock probably has a lot to work out. He grabs another sandwich from a replicator along the way and walks back to his own dorm room.

He has been offered the use of an apartment in a residential area of San Francisco for the time they are grounded and, he suspects, so has Spock. He’s refused and opted instead for a small bedroom/living room combination with its own miniature bathroom in one of the residence halls, usually reserved for guest instructors. It wouldn’t be practical to live in town and he wants to be near his friends and other like-minded people who have been affected by recent events as much as he has. It makes him feel more secure. Like he is part of a group. Like he belongs. 

 

At half past one in the morning, Jim isn’t asleep. He’s not even in bed. He’s sitting on the floor in his small living room, propped against the couch and reading a new thesis on the ionization effect on warp nacelles. It’s boring as hell and he hopes it will finally make his brain shut up and put him to sleep. The sooner the better. 

When he hears the whirring of the elevator and the doors opening on his floor, he grins to himself. He fondly remembers his own wild academy days, sneaking back into his dorm long after curfew, trying to dodge instructors and supervisors. He listens to the carefully measured steps coming down the hall. Not too drunk, then. The person’s chances to get back undetected are good.   
He smiles again and has just turned back to his reading, when the steps stop in front of his door. Jim looks up again and listens for the sounds of the person going into the room opposite from his. They don’t come. Instead, the steps retreat back up the hall, the elevator doors are opening then closing again, but the elevator doesn’t start. After another couple of moments, the steps come back down the hall and again stop in front of Jim’s door. 

Jim’s heart starts to pound with barely contained hope and anticipation. He jumps up, throws the padd down onto the couch and tears open the door.   
Spock stares at him, startled.   
Jim doesn’t even stop to look. In one smooth motion he leans forwards, presses a kiss to Spock’s lips, grabs his hand and pulls him inside.

Spock looks at their joined hands, a vaguely scandalized expression on his face. “We need to discuss certain aspects of our relationship”, he says, withdrawing his hand. He straightens his shirt and assumes parade rest. “Mainly, but not exclusively, your display of physical affection in public.”

Jim laughs, giddy with excitement. Spock has come to him. Of his own free will. And he’s even talking about relationships! “This hardly qualifies as public, Spock.”

“The door was not closed, nor was it locked”, Spock insists. “There was a 48.6% likelihood of someone walking by.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s the middle of the night! You know, curfew and all that?”

Spock pauses and his brow furrows ever so slightly, as if he’s trying to figure something out. “Then why are you not asleep?”

Jim waves the question away before turning on the water heater sitting on a sideboard and rummaging through the cupboard for some teabags. There is a replicator in the hallway, but Jim has always preferred the real thing. 

“No way, we’re not making this about me! Just what time did you think it was?”

“I have not given any thought to time”, Spock admits after a beat. 

“Must be really important, then”, Jim observes and waves a box in the air. “Ginger/Lemon alright with you?”

“It is not important”, Spock protests and half-turns to the door. “You should be sleeping. We will speak at a more convenient time.”

“Spock.” Jim reaches out but stops inches before making contact. “There’s a reason I wasn’t sleeping. I couldn’t stop thinking. About us. So let’s talk about it and get the damn elephant out of the room. My quarters are definitely too small for that thing.”

Spock’s eyes promptly lock on the tiny elephant figurine sitting on the window sill and stay there, while Jim pours the hot water into mugs and adds the teabags.

Jim grins. “I love your sense of humor.” He takes the mugs over and sets them down on the little couch table. He himself keeps standing, somewhat undecided. Now that he’s done being busy, he feels nervousness and a certain amount of awkwardness slowly settling in his stomach. 

Spock’s eyes turn to Jim and there’s a definite sparkle in them. “That is unfortunate. Although Vulcans have cultivated most advantageous human traits to a superior degree, a ‘sense of humor’ is one of the few things we do not possess”, he declares, voice bare of inflection. 

Jim laughs again, finally sitting down on one end of the couch. The nervous feeling is already dissipating again and he wonders at how Spock is often able to ease his tension with just a deadpan sentence or two. He’s done so on the bridge countless times and it works miracles for Jim. He wonders if Spock does it on purpose. Probably. Which just says so much about how well Spock knows him.

Jim pats the couch and Spock sits down on the opposite end, cradling his tea. 

“So, you did break off with Uhura”, Jim states, because someone has to start the conversation. 

Spock nods. “Obviously. I have meditated on the situation and I have come to the conclusion that you are right. I cherish Nyota too much to maintain a relationship with her under these circumstances.”

“What circumstances?” Jim’s a persisting asshole but he finally wants it spelled out. 

“When in reality I want to spend my time with you. It is unjust.”

“You know I never wanted to come between you.”

“You were right. It is not the way I wish it to be, but it is.”

“Good.” Jim fidgets with the mug in his hands, then chances a glance over at Spock. “So are we… I mean… in a relationship now? Like… a couple?” A chill works itself down his spine at the idea, the implication, but he forces himself to sit still. He’s invited this all by himself. 

And Spock? Spock shrugs. It’s quick and one-shouldered, but it’s a shrug. 

Jim’s mouth is dry. “What about the illogic of homosexuality?” 

“I have meditated on that as well and I have come to no conclusion. I am, however, willing to try.” He’s staring at his hands and then, so low Jim has to strain to understand: “My father will be most displeased.”

“We don’t need to tell him just yet”, Jim reassures, pronoun already coming naturally. “He’s far away.”

Spock nods, still not looking at Jim. “Do not expect too much of me, Jim.”

“No. Promise. We’ll take it slow. I know… I mean, no, I don’t know, I have no idea how difficult this is for you, but I know it’s difficult. I’m so happy you’re giving it a try. I’ll give it all I have. Believe me, nothing has ever been so important to me. Well, Captaincy comes close but… that’s different. I want this to work. We’ve got time.” Rambling again. Damn it. 

He forces himself to shut shut up, then grins. “By the way: my psych evals came through. I’ll get my ship back. And you’ll be my first officer. No more bullshit about a position as an instructor.”

“The point of my being emotionally compromised over you still stands, Jim.” 

“Yeah, bullshit. We’re both professional and we both love that ship and her crew. We are well able to distinguish.”

“Additionally, the non-fraternization-rule…”

“…is bullshit, too. There are hundreds of marriages and love affairs on space ships. Everyone who’s ever been up there knows you can’t keep people in close confinement for weeks or months at a time and there won’t be any liaisons.”

“Still, I…”

“Spock! Do you really want to send me up there on my own? While you wait for me? What are we, a couple from a sappy old Victorian novel where the husband goes to war while the damsel stays at home, embroidering handkerchiefs and praying for a safe return? Is that what you want?”

Spock finally looks up and the tiniest smile pulls at his lips. “That is a most disturbing picture. I believe I prefer accompanying you to embroidering handkerchiefs.”

Jim barks a surprised laugh then dissolves into giggles at the picture in his mind’s eye of Spock, dressed in a Victorian gown, sitting at a window and stitching. 

Spock leaves him to it for some time, regarding him with warmth in his eyes, before growing serious again. “I do not want to make it public knowledge. Do not misunderstand me, I am not ashamed of you it is just… new for me and I do not feel comfortable sharing…”

Jim sobers quickly. “Yeah, sure, no problem. We’ll keep it quiet. But I’ve got to tell Bones.”

Spock’s forehead creases. 

“He’s my best friend, Spock, and he’s listened to me moan and talk about you for the past few months. For all his suffering he deserves to know there’s a happy ending.”

“I agree. We might need to tell Nyota.”

“Right. Let’s agree that our friends may know. But we’ll swear them to secrecy.” He grins a little, but the mood is serious again. 

Spock nods slowly, then sets his empty mug on the table. He’s been holding onto it this whole time, like it might steady him. 

They are both quiet for a while, lost in their own thoughts. Then Jim reaches over and briefly touches Spock’s arm. “So… what is allowed?”

Spock looks briefly at the mug as if he wants to pick it up again, then thinks better of it and carefully lays his hands flat on his tights. He looks Jim in the eyes and it’s clear it takes an effort to talk about these things. “In public, nothing, of course. In private…” he swallows “… we may touch. You may even kiss me. And…” He averts his eyes. Another swallow. Jim waits. Spock clasps his hands together, unclasps them. Swallows again. 

Then, a mere whisper: “I believe I would… enjoy… touching your hands…”

He doesn’t have to say so twice. Jim pulls up his legs, scoots over until he’s facing Spock and offers his hands. Spock’s eyes dart from his own hands to Jim’s and back again and he looks thoroughly overwhelmed. Jim keeps his position and after some hesitation Spock turns to Jim and carefully takes his hands in his own. His face is a mask of utter concentration as he gently caresses each finger, the palms, wrists, devoting extra time to the pulse point, moving on to the knuckles…  
Jim catches on quickly, mirroring the motions and they spend an eternity caressing and fondling each other’s hands, devoting attention to every finger, knuckle, crease…

 

When the alarm blares, Jim finds himself curled up on the couch with a blanket thrown over him and a crick in his neck. Still, he hasn’t slept so well since… since Khan turned up, actually. 

Jim stretches luxuriously and lazily recalls last night’s events. It must have been around four in the morning when he finally dropped off but he feels fresh and recuperated even if he’s only had about three hours of sleep. Quality beats quantity. And falling asleep with Spock fondling your hands… there couldn’t be much better quality. Jim almost purrs at the memory, before slowly sitting up. 

Spock is nowhere in sight, which is a bit of a disappointment. But then again, you can’t have everything at once. 

 

Spock has apparently reset the alarm to as late as possible, Jim makes it only just in time to the First Year tactical class he’s co-teaching. After that, he sits in on another of Professor K’neth’r’s xenobiology classes before he sends Spock a comm message, asking him out on a date. An honest to God traditional date in a restaurant in town. With white table clothes and candles. 

Spock agrees and that’s pretty much how Jim spends the rest of the Enterprise’s down time: teaching, sitting in on a class here and there, supervising repairs and dating Spock. They eat in restaurants, go sightseeing, even hiking in the mountains a few times. They usually end up on Jim’s couch sooner or later, making out with lips, hands or, preferably, both. It never goes further than that but, even though Jim needs to make use of his right hand more often than ever before, he is happy. 

Despite the path of Khan’s destruction still evident all around San Francisco and even though neither the city nor Starfleet will ever be the same, the world looks less grim to Jim, now that he shares it with Spock.

 

The closer the repairs on the Enterprise move to completion, the more Jim gets involved with supervising and conferring with or, more accurately, fighting against the Admiralty to get Scotty’s ‘upgrades’ approved. 

Then, finally, after close to a year on earth, Jim gets their new assignment. 

It’s a dream come true. 

A five year mission of exploration into uncharted deep space. 

There had been rumors before the Khan-incident, but no one has still been expecting it. With Starfleet decimated as it is, no one thought they would spare their flagship and more than 400 crew for an exploratory mission. Then again, maybe it’s not all that surprising. Starfleet needs positive PR, interplanetary goodwill enhancement and possible future allies even more than they need warships. 

Now, Jim’s main job is to put a crew together and he’s pouring day and night over name-lists, application documents and graduation papers. Usually, a Captain only choses his command crew and leaves the rest to the First Officer who’s in turn free to delegate the responsibility to the heads of departments. Jim, however, makes it quite clear to Spock that he wants to personally know who he will be spending the next five years with.   
Spock relents, but he reads just as many graduation and evaluation papers, giving unobtrusive but decided advice. 

He also sits down to a long talk with Uhura and afterwards, Jim does the same. Eventually, she signs up. Jim isn’t sure if she has entirely forgiven him or Spock but she is professional enough to set personal issues aside for a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.   
As for Jim, he knows how good she is, he trusts her and he wants her. 

 

Four weeks before their scheduled departure, every crewmember assigned to the Enterprise is granted two weeks of leave to say goodbye to family and friends.

Jim and Scotty, of course, refuse, and Spock doesn’t have anywhere to go within shuttle range. So they stay at the base until, little more than a week before departure, Jim changes his mind and decides to take a few days to visit his mother in Iowa after all. It’s more of a duty call than anything else, they don’t talk much anymore. 

He invites Spock along to show him where he grew up. The Vulcan is enchanted by the old farmhouse and marvels at the vast skies and endless cornfields. They take long walks along the dirt-roads, hands entwined, while Winona Kirk is working.

The visit ends on a bitter note, though, when Winona accuses Jim of having been inconsiderate and selfish in signing up with Starfleet when he knew she didn’t want him to go into space. When she suggests that he’s only doing it because he’s trying to copy his father and claims that this is of no use because no matter how hard he tries, Jim will never be the man George was, Spock quietly but quickly packs their bag and tugs Jim out of the house by his elbow before either of them can say any more. They both might regret it later. 

Back in the car, speeding towards the nearest shuttle station, Jim briefly feels like jumping out and finding the next bar to get into a solid, liberating fight. But then he glances over at Spock, unpretentious behind the wheel, and he can’t help the warmth spreading in his chest or the smile creeping onto his face.

 

The last days before launch are a flurry of activity. Never before has such a long mission been attempted and no one really knows how to organize something this huge.   
It doesn’t help that Scotty throws a fit and wants the whole dilithium reactor replaced… one day before departure. Jim sighs, rolls his eyes and dutifully trots over to headquarters to apply to the board. Scotty is a genius and he’s the one who will be responsible for keeping them alive during the next five years, working miracles out of thin air and bending the laws of physics. It’s easy. Whatever Scotty wants, Scotty gets. 

The day of departure is staged as a huge publicity event. Jim is giving a speech, the entire crew of 430 standing at attention and in awe of his words. Cameras are everywhere. It symbolizes strength and progress but it’s a farce. Starfleet is badly wounded and understaffed and the Enterprise will be on her own. The Federation won’t be able to spare any resources for assistance or even a rescue mission should the need arise. Communications will be few and far between, depending on the distance of the ship to the nearest subspace relay beacon. And although there are some Starbases as well as Federation-friendly planets even far out in space, only very few of them are equipped to deal with a vessel as big and modern as the Federation’s flagship. 

Jim knows their primary function is an imposing departure and a few impressive first missions before heading out into deep space and being all but forgotten between the occasional sensational discoveries they are expected to communicate back to earth. 

 

The first two months on board go by so fast Jim hardly notices the time flying. He and Spock barely see each other off the bridge. 

While Spock makes it his personal duty to visit every department, inspect every single workstation trying to maximise efficiency with, for example, different crew rotations or small adjustments of hardware or supplies, Jim roams the ship, getting to know everyone and dealing with the requests and complains resulting from a hastily put together mission involving 430 crew from 72 different planets. 

Yes, they should have known it’s impossible to make a La’an share quarters with a Dresok, the ideal ambient temperature for either species differs by about 20 degrees Celsius. But no, it’s not possible to get single quarters as a yeoman just because your husband at home doesn’t like the idea of you sharing with either gender. Yes, regular water showers are definitely restricted to those species that can’t go without as water’s scarce, even with the Enterprise’s progressive water-processing unit. If you’re lucky, maybe extra-permissions will be given with extraordinary performance, that’s not yet decided. And gee, Scotty, would you please leave the warpcore alone for a day or two? That hatch is probably there for a reason! 

Their first assignment is a representational visit to the new Vulcan colony. The planet the remaining Vulcan Elders have chosen for their diminished race is out in the furthest reaches of known Federation space. The Federation at large was reluctant to let the last remains of such an important and well-esteemed race settle so far away from the protection of Starbases or trade routes, but temperature, atmosphere and geological structure are very similar to Vulcan-that-was. Besides, the Elders made it quite clear that they would prefer a place far away from the hubbub of the Federation to concentrate on rebuilding their race and brushed away concerns about their safety. No one blamed them. Vulcan-that-was had been located in the middle of Federation space, one of the planets closest to earth, and see how much that had helped them in the end. Also, there are several minor Federation planets nearby, trade for essential goods shouldn’t be that much of a problem, and both the Klingon as well as the Romulan Neutral Zone are reasonably far away. Space is never a safe place, but Epsilon IV is as safe as it can be. 

On their way out to the colony they are scheduled to make orbit over M-113 so that a medical team can perform a routine check-up on the Craters, a couple who’s lived there, isolated, for the last five years, conducting an archeological survey of the planet’s lost culture.

The medical exams go over smoothly enough, but then Jim ends up sleeping in a corner of sickbay or on the couch in Bones’ quarters for several nights in a row. Turns out Nancy Crater had been Bones’ college sweetheart, his fiancée even, the supposed love of his live, until she’d broken it off over the strain of a miscarriage. Bones’ child.   
Add to that the fact that several years later, the story has kind of repeated itself, with another woman who should have been Bones’ love of life breaking up and making him lose his second child, albeit in a different manner, and Jim has a very depressed Doctor on board. 

To Spock’s raised eyebrow Jim only shrugs one shoulder. The duties of a best friend equal the duties of a Captain. 

 

Finally en route to New Vulcan, things calm down a bit and routine is slowly established. Most days, Jim and Spock share Alpha Shift. They have breakfast together before heading to the bridge or their respective duties in other departments. Dinner is shared with whoever else of the bridge crew is off-duty, even Uhura joins them sometimes. 

In the evenings, it’s mostly working out, cards with Bones and Scotty or chess with Spock. Even though each of them has their own private quarters, Spock often stays with Jim overnight, quietly meditating on the floor while Jim sleeps. Jim has even constantly changed the default temperature in his quarters to a level suitable for both of them. A little too warm for his taste, a little too cold for Spock, but that can’t be helped. 

They also usually spend their days off together, just reading in each other’s company or Jim listening while Spock practices the lyre. 

‘Almost domestic’, Jim thinks on one of these days, lying on the couch, head nestled comfortably in Spock’s lap, the Vulcan’s hand absent-mindedly carding through Jim’s hair while he reads from his PADD.

Jim sighs. His life would be perfect, except… for the one thing missing. After these crazy months, now that the routine settles in, it gets harder and harder to keep his mind off sex. He is only human and his own hand has gotten boring long ago. He hasn’t had sex with another person in ages and he’s missing it. A lot.   
He mentally shakes himself. He promised not to push Spock. The sacrifices the Vulcan is making, going against his beliefs, against his clan’s, his people’s, are big enough as they are. But just looking at those fine cheekbones, those beautiful ears…

Spock puts his PADD down, hand stilling in Jim’s hair. “You are radiating sexual desire”, he says matter-of-factly.

Jim starts. “Hey, no reading my mind!” he complains. 

“There is no need to. You are projecting quite clearly”, Spock looks down at him mildly. 

Jim tries to sit up but Spock’s hand in his hair is keeping him in place. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You’re just so… I can’t help it. Sorry. 

Spock contemplates him for a while. “You want to progress to a sexual relationship.”

“No!” Jim pushes up, out of Spock’s hold. “I mean yes, of course, but not before you want it, too! I promised not to push and…” Spock silences him with a touch to his lips. 

“You do know sexual congress outside the time of mating does mean nothing to a Vulcan. The physical is not nearly as important as the mental. I am quite… content with our present relationship.”

Jim’s heart sinks. Patience he can do, but go forever without??

“Then again”, Spock continues and Jim’s heart picks up a hopeful beat, “neither does leisurely touching mean anything to a Vulcan, nor the human practice of ‘dating’. I, however, seem to enjoy both. I do not know exactly what that means. But you have shown restraint for a long time. I have come to accept that you seem to be serious about this relationship.”  
He inhales, then slowly, very slowly, exhales. “If you would be willing to teach me, I would be willing to learn. And try.”

Jim stares at him, disbelieving. “Are you sure??”

Spock shrugs one shoulder, a totally human gesture he has picked up from Jim and only uses in his company alone. “I have meditated about it for the longest time. To no definite conclusion. But what we have engaged in so far is already considered the height of immorality on Vulcan. We might as well go one step further.”

Jim studies Spock’s face for a long moment. He looks somewhat shaken by his own courage but also resolved. How well he can read him. A big smile spreads over Jim’s face as he leans forward and hugs Spock tightly. 

“I love you”, he says, and then “Thank you”, because he knows exactly what all this has cost the Vulcan. It’s been a long road and Spock has had to come to terms with his own expectations of himself in addition to the expectations he knows his father and his clan have, but now they’re finally on the way to a real, permanent relationship. That thought alone makes Jim’s head spin. He hugs even tighter. Spock is still unusually tense against him. “You won’t regret it. Ever”, Jim promises and Spock finally melts against him, seeking the contact. 

Jim strokes Spock’s hair, lets his other hand travel up Spock’s back, then down again on his side and then he does what he has never been allowed to do before, sliding one hand under the waistband of Spock’s pants while the other searches for the fastenings.

That, of course, is the exact moment the red alert goes off. 

 

The unknown vessel which caused the alarm turns out to be Vulcan. Also, they are already much nearer to the colony than they’d thought. So, first thing Jim learns on this mission? Star charts this far out are totally unreliable. 

Jim meets with the Vulcan Captain, exchanges formalities, then the Enterprise gets escorted to the colony. In the little time that is left, Jim organizes crews and shuttles to deliver the supplies they are carrying while Spock negotiates landfall. Vulcans have always been private and are now more so than ever. There’s a fixed set of rules about who and how many at once are allowed on the planet or what exactly they are allowed to visit. And they are very reluctant to allow the use of transporters.

When Jim finally makes it back to his quarters for a couple of hours of sleep he pointedly avoids looking at the rumpled couch and thinking about where the day might have led had they been where they’d thought they were. 

Spock doesn’t come to Jim’s quarters that night and only a few hours later, Jim is back on the bridge when they ease into orbit around New Vulcan. 

He meets Spock later in the turbo lift on their way to the shuttle bay, all business. 

“Good morning, Captain.”

“I am sure there will be many better mornings where we won’t be interrupted at the most inconvenient time, Mr Spock”, Jim replies and delights in the way Spock’s ears turn slightly green. 

“I am sure you realize this is a delicate diplomatic visit, not shore leave, Captain.”

Jim sobers. “I won’t embarrass you, Spock.”

Spock exhales and his shoulders sag minutely. “I know, Jim. I apologize.” 

When they exit the lift, Jim briefly feels a reassuring hand in the small of his back and he wonders about the strain this visit puts on a Vulcan who was never really welcome anyway and just now has decided to defy tradition and convention to be with another man. He wishes he could have been the one to reassure. 

 

Spock is nervous. No, that’s not quite it. Spock is radiating nervousness. Jim is quite sure none of the others can determine it, but to him it seems as if there’s a cloud of nervousness around Spock. He can see it, feel it, smell it in the tight confines of the shuttle. The cause is clear: their relationship needs to stay secret if they don’t want to risk a diplomatic incident. Tough business when dealing with a race of telepaths. 

Jim wishes one of them could have stayed on board, but with him being the Captain and Spock being the only Vulcan on the crew, it has never been an option. 

Spock visibly steels himself before they land, shields and barriers coming up one by one until his face is a blank mask. Jim is amazed by the difference, he’s gotten so used to the Vulcan’s relative expressiveness he can barely remember how he was when they met. That Spock left putting up his shields so late can only mean that maintaining them is a big effort. Maybe more so than in the past, because he’s not used to doing it all the time anymore. Jim is a little proud that Spock feels comfortable enough to be himself on his ship and doesn’t feel the need to shield as much anymore, even if it makes it harder for him to do so now. 

Jim, too, tries to blank his mind and face before stepping out of the shuttle. He positions himself a bit further away from his First Officer than usual and Bones wordlessly takes the place between them. Better safe than sorry. Vulcans are not allowed to read the minds of anyone without permission, let alone psi-null species like humans, they even have to shield against their superficial projections. But Jim doesn’t think it needs much of a telepath to read his feelings when he’s near Spock. 

 

________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The delegation of Vulcan Elders greets Jim respectfully and all but ignores Spock. Jim wants to shake them and tell them none of their sorry, uptight asses would even be alive right now if not for Spock heroically saving them in the middle of the biggest crisis a starship has ever seen. But he knows better and keeps his mouth shut.

Nothing Spock could ever do would apparently be enough for this demanding culture and his outright refusal to move to New Vulcan like the rest of the survivors to rebuild certainly didn’t help matters.

They are escorted to a small public hall where formal greetings are exchanged. Jim is quite sure he’s remembered all the necessary phrases and gestures. He’s quite proud of himself. 

As soon as they’re done, Bones is whisked away with part of the crew to see the newly-built hospital and supervise the unloading of medical supplies. The young Vulcan who has been appointed their guide approaches them. “While Commander Spock’s presence has been requested by Elder Sarek, I will be at your disposal to show you our colony, Captain.”

For the briefest moment, surprise flashes in Spock’s eyes, before the mask is back in place. But Jim is relieved. Between Sarek not being there to greet them on arrival and the Vulcans treating Spock like an outcast, he’d been starting to doubt if Sarek would even bother to meet his son. 

“Sure”, he grins and signs for his personal staff of two security officers, the quartermaster and a yeoman to follow the young Vulcan. He almost slaps Spock’s back encouragingly on the way out. He really needs to be more careful.

 

Jim is impressed by the progress the Vulcans have made in just a year. 

To save time manufacturing building materials, they have carved their dwellings into rocks. Only important buildings like schools, the hospital or city hall are proper houses. Their little colony is already completely functional although everywhere there’s work in progress. Everyone seems to be involved, men and women of every age, even children. 

Jim dutifully takes notes and makes lists of things still missing. Or rather, his yeoman does. The advantages of being a captain.

The resources New Vulcan needs most is anything that takes time to produce, like raw materials and delicate technical equipment. It’s the bulk of what’s in the Enterprise’s cargo holds and Jim is happy to be of help. 

He only meets Spock again at dinner and he’s shocked. In just the few hours since their arrival, Spock seems to have become sick. His face looks haggard and pale, his shoulders are slumped, his gaze downcast. He refuses to meet Jim’s eyes, even across the room. 

At the earliest possibility, while Jim is still busy chewing on the squishy-toughy plant things that seem to pass for dinner, Spock excuses himself. There’s not much Jim can do. He just hopes Spock either gets some sleep or some quality time with his family. 

 

While the rest of the crew sleeps on the ship, Jim and his personal staff have been assigned on-planet accommodation. He wishes this weren’t the case. Even though the shuttle ride to the Enterprise in the evenings and back in the mornings would have been tiresome, at least there are such fancy inventions like environmental controls or replicators on board. One could, for example, order a steak or lower the temperature by… say…oh,10 to 20 degrees. At least.

The heat is oppressive and Jim can’t fall asleep. He still has plant-fibers sticking between his teeth and he wonders where Spock is. Back on the Enterprise? In his family’s home? What has happened? Is he ok? Are they ok?

When he finally falls into a fitful sleep, it’s long past midnight and not three hours later, his communicator’s beeping wakes him up again. It’s a message from Spock. “Urgent family matters have arisen. I regret to be unavailable until further notice.”

Awesome. 

 

Jim doesn’t see Spock over the next couple of days. It’s not how he’d imagined their time on Vulcan. He’d hoped they would find time to explore some of Spock’s new home planet, preferably alone. To maybe get a chance to see Spock’s family home. Or even meet his father again. 

On their fifth day on the colony, preparations for departure the next day are already under way, Uhura comms to inform Jim of an urgent message from Starfleet Command. 

Jim really doesn’t mind the excuse to skip the last night on New Vulcan and spend it in his climate controlled quarters. Not to mention a chance to avoid dinner. He actually thinks he deserves an award for eating those undefinable plant-things four nights in a row without complaining.

He bids the available Elders a quick but respectful goodbye, hops the next shuttle to the Enterprise and takes the message in his ready room. His air-conditioned ready room.

They are still within reach for visual transmissions from earth, if not for real-time ones. 

Jim watches as Admiral Mraaati’s face appears. It flickers a few times, then the transmission steadies, no doubt thanks to Uhura’s excellent skills. 

“Starfleet has received a request from the Vulcan Council of Elders which we have decided to accept. The Enterprise will take a Vulcan scientist on board. Her name is T’Pring ak’Soren and her status will be that of a civilian. However, she will be integrated in the Enterprise’s standing science program under the direction of Commander Spock. Ms. T’Pring is one of Vulcan’s most outstanding scientists. The Council’s request to place her on the Enterprise is of highest importance to Starfleet’s relations with New Vulcan. We expect you to honor the gesture. Ms T’Pring’s file and all relevant information is attached to this communication.  
Admiral Mraaati out.”

Jim stares as the screen goes blank.  
Blinks.   
Stares some more.   
Blinks again.   
Then reason kicks in. 

It must be a coincidence. For all he knows, T’Pring is the most common Vulcan girls’-name of the past five decades.   
Just the chances of Spock’s former fiancée surviving Vulcan’s destruction are incredibly slim. Let alone her being a scientist like Spock and being positioned on the Enterprise. No. The name is a coincidence.   
He touches the screen and opens the file attached to the message. 

T’Pring ak’Soren apparently passed Vulcan Science Academy with flying colors and has worked as a teacher as well as heading various science programs ever since. He scrolls further back. Top of her class in ShiKahr University, the most prestigious University on Vulcan. Second only to… on an impulse, Jim pulls up the list of graduates… Spock cha’Sarek. Damn. 

Just another coincidence, surely.   
They are about the same age, both grew up in ShiKahr, of course they know each other. It still doesn’t mean anything. It can’t be that same T’Pring. It’s simply impossible. Spock would have known and warned him. 

Wouldn’t he?

 

________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Jim has made it a habit to personally welcome every new crewmember on board whenever possible. He won’t change that habit for a civilian scientist forced on him for reasons unknown. 

Which is why, at 10 o’clock the next morning, he’s in the shuttle bay, waiting for T’Pring to arrive. 

Jim hates her on sight. 

Ok, so he might be a bit biased. 

She is stunningly beautiful, standing there with her head held high, her thick black hair expertly done up, dressed in a simple black robe. Her arms are folded, her hands hidden away in the respective opposite sleeves of her robe. 

Her face is absolutely, utterly devoid of expression as she watches how the shuttle bay staff scrambles to help with her baggage. Is she amused? Annoyed? Jim knows that he, certainly, is annoyed. He knows Spock is far more expressive around them all than a Vulcan should be but he’d honestly thought, with all the practice he’s had, that he would be able to read all Vulcans to a certain extent. Apparently not. Apparently, Spock is far more human and less able to conceal his emotions than Jim had ever realized. Most of the time, Jim can at least guess his mood. 

“Ms T’Pring”, he greats her politely. 

Vulcan last names are a jumble of clan-, ancestor and place-designations, getting longer with almost every generation. As they are nearly impossible to pronounce for human tongues and difficult to remember even for Vulcans, it has become common to substitute a patronym, similar to those that are still common in certain rural communities of the Russasian Union on earth. 

There are very strict rules about how to use these, though, when to use the mother’s and when the father’s name or what prefix to use, so it has become common and accepted for outworlders to refer to Vulcans only by title and first names. 

Jim has been fascinated by the topic of Vulcan names since his earliest Academy days and is pretty sure he has mastered the art and would be able to address her correctly, but he decides to keep that knowledge to himself. Who knows, it might come in handy later. 

She slowly turns and looks at him as if she’s only just realized that he is there. Her expression doesn’t change at all as she looks him up and down, slowly pulls her right hand out of her sleeve and steadily offers the Vulcan salute.   
“I come to serve”, she intones and her voice is completely devoid of inflection.   
“Your service honors us”, Jim replies correctly and copies the gesture easily.

She takes a few steps and comes to stand in front of Jim, although still an appropriate distance away. 

“I am Captain Kirk”, he introduces himself. “Welcome aboard. We are honored to have you work with us. The Enterprise’s Science Department contains one of the most advanced laboratories the Federation possesses. I am sure our collaboration will be mutually beneficial.”

“I have been informed about the Enterprise’s facilities and it is an advantage to have them at my disposal”, T’Pring answers with a slight bow. “If you do not need my services at the moment, I would prefer to take up quarters. I am sure you have been made aware of my requirements?”

Jim grinds his teeth. He has. He’s had to reassign two Junior Officers to smaller quarters and his quartermaster has pulled an all-nighter building a meditation platform and several new room dividers.   
Spock is just fine meditating on the floor, so what the hell?

“Of course. Your requirements have been met.” 

He signs to Danielson at the transporter controls, who’s quietly drooling all over himself just looking at T’Pring. “This is Lieutenant Danielson. He will show you to your quarters.”

He looks on as Danielson almost stumbles over his own feet in his eagerness to get to the Vulcan woman and smiles. At least someone gets something positive out of this encounter.

 

It is common for the senior bridge crew to be present whenever the Enterprise enters or leaves orbit of a planet. Either in charge or as supervisors. This is less about safety and more about expressing respect to the people and planet they are visiting. 

Jim is displeased when he arrives on the bridge and realizes everyone is there… except for Spock. He’s outright annoyed when he realizes that he doesn’t even know if Spock is on board. He hasn’t contacted Jim since they arrived and for all he knows, Spock has decided to stay on the colony to attend to his ‘family matters’. 

He struts over to his chair and punches a command into the computer. At least Spock has checked in. Yesterday already. That, for some reason, makes him even angrier.

Just out of spite he switches to shipwide and orders Spock to the bridge. No explanation, no special treatment. Easy. 

 

Spock reports two minutes later, still looking pale and ill, and stays during the procedure of leaving orbit without even properly acknowledging Jim. He’s gone before Jim has finished thanking and dismissing his senior bridge crew. It borders on insubordination. 

Over the next few days, Jim discovers that Spock has rotated their shifts. They hardly overlap and whenever Jim is off, Spock is either on or working on some very important experiment and can’t be disturbed.

He finally corners Spock in his own quarters. Well, he doesn’t so much corner him but hack the board computer to alert him when Spock next enters his quarters.   
He waits for exactly seventeen minutes so as not to appear too creepy, then he uses the access code Spock has given him when they were still… whatever they were. He’s almost surprised to find it still works. 

Spock is sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, apparently meditating. He reacts immediately to the swishing of the doors, though, standing in one quick, fluid motion, something he wouldn’t do if he were thoroughly immersed. He comes to stand by the partition separating the bedroom from the working area, his back to Jim. 

Jim steps away from the door to let it close, then engages the locking mechanism. 

“Jim”, Spock growls lowly, “please respect my privacy.”

Jim is momentarily silent. Then, quietly: “Fuck your privacy, Spock. The least you owe me is an explanation.”

Spock does not turn. 

“I am in the process of finding a solution to a complex dilemma which has presented itself during my stay on Vulcan. It requires time. I will inform you as soon as I have come to a conclusion.”

A clear dismissal. Jim will have none of it. 

“That’s not how it works, you know? You won’t get to do that. It’s just not fair. I know you’re dumping me, so at least tell me why.”

Spock doesn’t answer. Jim wishes he could see his face but he’s still turned to the partition. He realizes how tense Spock’s shoulders are, though. He’s definitely very uncomfortable. 

“It’s the sex, isn’t it? I brought it up too soon, I should have…”

Spock whirls around, clearly riled now. “I am an adult, Jim. I gave my consent and you may take me at my word. This situation has nothing to do with that.”

“Oh.” Jim’s at a loss. “Then why? What did I do wrong?” He’s pleading now, but he doesn’t care. 

Barely repressed anger is glinting in Spock’s eyes. “This has nothing to do with you”, he spits. “Surely by now even you must have realized that the world does not revolve around you. Why do you always believe everything is about you?” 

The words are harsh, meant to hurt. Jim feels his breath hitch, a chill running down his back. “Because only then do I have control over it. If it’s not about me, how can I control it? How can I change it?” His voice is small and his mind fills with images, of his mother leaving, of her kind, caring, short-time boyfriend Bill leaving, of Sam leaving, of his first true love Carol leaving, taking their unborn baby to the doctor to get rid of it…. Their voices, trying to sound reassuring… ‘It’s not about you, Jimmy, this has nothing to do with you, there’s nothing you can do…’

Jim sways slightly with the intensity of it all. He distantly registers Spock taking a step closer, hand shooting out to steady him, making contact for the briefest of moments before it’s retracted. 

When his vision finally clears, he realizes that all anger has drained out of Spock, leaving him looking sad and troubled. He’s clearly not shielding very well right now. 

“I apologize”, Spock says, sounding sincere. “That was uncalled for. I have projected my inner turmoil towards you which has caused my emotional outburst.”

Jim nods, not yet trusting his voice. 

Spock looks him straight in the eyes and his face is more open than Jim has seen it in a long time.

“I have no intention of leaving you. However, the circumstances are intricate. I cannot predict the outcome. 

Jim is still working at getting his breathing back under control but his heart jumps at the ‘not-leaving’-part, cradling it and holding on for dear life. 

“Talk to me, then. Whatever it is, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Spock shakes his head. “It is a very private matter, Jim, involving my clan and my family.”

“Oh, to hell with it, Spock, if you’ll never trust me, just say so now!” He’s feeling much more confident, with the firm background-knowledge that Spock doesn’t want to dump him.

His outburst finally breaks the tension and Spock looks relived, even the tiniest bit amused. “Of course I trust you, Jim. But I have to consider the privacy of my people. And I did not want to burden you with my issues. However, that may have been futile as it seems my trying to shield you has led to even greater turmoil.”

Spock walks over to the built-in cupboard and gestures for Jim to sit down on the couch. 

“As a solution still escapes me and you are insistent, this might be as good a time as ever to inform you.”

Jim ungracefully plops down onto the couch. He watches incredulously as Spock produces a bottle of expensive bourbon he recognizes from Bones’ secret stash and pours them each a glass. 

Spock notices his expression and shrugs that half-shrug Jim has come to love so much. “During your coma, Doctor McCoy has introduced me to the calming qualities a glass of alcoholic beverage can procure.” 

Jim shudders to think how his near-death experience must have affected Spock for him to bond with Bones over something as illogical as alcohol of all things, but he takes the proffered glass without a word. 

He takes a healthy gulp, letting the warmth spreading in his stomach ground him somewhat while Spock sits down next to him, holding his own glass in both hands and staring at the content. 

“I have told you about T’Pring, my intended bondmate”, he starts eventually. 

Jim nods. 

“I believe you realize you have met her.”

Jim nods again, biting down a comment. He can’t say he is surprised. He’d tried to convince himself otherwise, but of course he’d known. 

And finally, face blank and impassive, holding his drink firmly in both hands but not sipping, Spock tells him everything. How he was called to his father’s house that first day they were on New Vulcan and was expected not only by Sarek, but also T’Pring, a healer and two witnesses.   
How they’d informed him that T’Pring’s chosen bondmate had died in the destruction of Vulcan and how she, having had her mind-compatibility with Spock already determined by a healer as a child, had appealed to Sarek to have the bond reactivated. After all, she is in the optimal age-range to start helping to rebuild the Vulcan population.

“There was no logical reason to decline”, Spock says quietly and Jim feels a chill run down his back. He hastily takes another sip. “For me to be bonded to a Vulcan woman has always been my father’s wish and my own… emphatic desire. Additionally, this liaison would benefit the survival of our race. Having three-quarter Vulcan children is, under the present circumstances, highly preferable to having no children at all. It will be difficult to find enough compatible couples under the survivors to keep the population growing. The Vulcan High Council has yet to agree to relationships of non-compatible individuals for the sole purpose of producing offspring…”

He visibly pulls himself back from this train of thought. 

“My father knows of Nyota, but he also knows I am not bonded to her. He had no reason to assume he was not doing me a great service in agreeing on my behalf and arranging for the ceremony to take place immediately.”

Jim’s eyes are riveted on Spock’s carefully blank face as he recounts how he refused. His heart clenches in sympathy. To refuse a Vulcan bondmate. To shame father and house in such dire times. It must have taken every ounce of courage and fortitude Spock had in himself. 

This had all happened before the dinner where Jim had last seen Spock down at the colony. Sarek, knowing about Spock’s relationship with Uhura, had of course assumed the refusal had to do with Spock’s loyalty to her. 

“He looked for Nyota after the formal dinner and lectured her about not selfishly standing in the way of our race’s survival. She has made it clear to my father that our relationship has been discontinued by myself and not in a good way. To her credit, she has made no mention of you.”

Jim releases a breath he realizes he’s been holding and takes another, although more moderate, sip of his drink. For all Spock tries to keep his face impassive and his voice without emotional inflection, he looks decidedly forlorn. Jim wants nothing more than to reach out to him, hug him, but he knows it’s not want Spock needs right now. So he holds on to his glass instead and forces himself to be quiet. 

“I could not tell him about you”, Spock says and it’s hardly more than a whisper. He’s working hard to control himself but Jim realizes he is somehow apologizing. “After everything he has lost, after everything my family has lost, I could not close that door completely to him. I could not reveal that I would rather spend the rest of my time with a human male than a Vulcan woman. That I would never have offspring and would never contribute to the continuation of our house, our race.   
I could not, Jim.”

Jim doesn’t say anything. How could he? He firmly believes every individual has a right to their own life and happiness. But the need of the many outweighs the need of the few. Or the one. Spock has told him so countless times and Jim himself believes in the concept, if not to the same extent. 

Isn’t this a prime example? It’s not even a life-or-death situation. All Spock has to do is marrying a woman he’s not particularly fond of and make a couple of babies. Worse things happen every day. How could he stand in the way of that?

“Why is she here?” he finally asks. 

Spock gently swirls the brandy in his glass. “My father knows me well enough to realize that, even if we had bonded, I would have refused to stay on the Vulcan colony with T’Pring. But there is no time to lose in starting reproduction, so he and the Council applied to Starfleet to let her join me on the Enterprise. As my wife.”

“So the Admiralty thinks you’re already married?!?” Sure, why not make a complicated situation even more complicated? 

“Apparently”, Spock agrees. “As it is, after much… debating between different council members, my father and me, it was determined that I was momentarily overwhelmed by the sudden, unexpected chance bestowed upon me and that I need some time to adjust. T’Pring and I are allowed and expected to start reproducing as soon as we see fit… the proper ceremony may take place whenever we next visit the colony.”

Jim gapes. 

Spock half-shrugs.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“It’s all so easy to you, isn’t it? Find a compatible mind, procreate, do the logical thing…”

“I assure you, Jim, it is anything but easy to me.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean you, I meant Vulcans in general… Anyway, if you and T’Pring are mind-compatible, why don’t you like each other?”

Spock hesitates, then exhales in what might be a sigh. “Given the chance, we probably would. T’Pring broke the bond before we properly got to know each other. Those with compatible minds usually are attracted to each other. Maybe not at first sight, but there is scarcely a couple whose mind compatibility was established that doesn’t grow to cherish each other.”

“Oh.” And she works in Spock’s team. Awesome.

They are both silent for a long moment, then Jim drains his glass. “Thanks for telling me, Spock. That’s… horrible. I can see where you’re coming from… what with needing some time to yourself and all that. But I’m glad you told me.”

Spock swirls his glass, then takes the tiniest sip. “I, too, am glad to have told you. Even though it does not bring us any nearer to a solution, confiding into you proves to be liberating to some effect. It is most curious.”

“I wish I could help you, though. You know what I want, but… you’re the one who has to live with the decision so…”

“Yes. I will have to continue my meditations until I come to a conclusion.” Spock looks a little desperate but Jim really doesn’t know what else they could do.

“Yeah. But you know what? Whatever you decide, I’ll be there. I don’t want to lose you as either my First Officer or my friend. Ever.”

Spock is still lost in contemplating his brandy when, a considerable amount of time later, Jim gives his shoulder a gentle pat and leaves for his own quarters. 

 

Over the next couple of days, while they are speeding further and further away from known Federation space, Jim and Spock maintain a professional, friendly relationship. Jim has been dying to run different ideas by Spock and they easily slip back into their roles as Captain and First Officer respectively. They continue to share a game of chess or a meal here and there but, of course, minus the touching and cuddling. 

Both do their best to avoid the topic of either T’Pring or the future of their relationship and Jim works hard to keep his dirty thoughts and all innuendos to himself. It’s anything but easy.

He occasionally sees T’Pring in the mess hall and, although there are always a couple of young ensigns hovering just outside of her immediate reach, she’s always alone. Damn. Jim doesn’t want to feel sorry for her. 

They get their first taste of how their five-year mission might go down when they follow a distress call and find a group of children on a planet that remarkably resembles earth. They turn out to be 300 years old, though, and the carriers of a deadly disease. It’s only thanks to Bones’ superior skills and extraordinary courage that the away team survives and they can cure the children. When they leave, Jim catches Spock regarding them with a lingering, almost wistful gaze.

 

Spock asks Jim for a private meeting shortly after that. It’s not a ‘let’s meet after dinner and talk’-thing, it’s more of a ‘please determine a suitable amount of time and an appropriate location to ensure we might converse without being disturbed’-thing. And Jim knows it’s truth time. He decides to hold in on neutral ground, so, after Spock has had dinner and Jim has restlessly prowled the ship, they lock themselves into the smallest private room on the observation deck. 

As soon as the door has closed behind them, Spock turns to Jim, gently cradles his neck and kisses him softly on the lips. From the sheer tenderness of it, Jim immediately recognizes the kiss as an apology. He deepens it, takes what he can while it lasts, desperation evident in the way he clutches at Spock, doesn’t want to let go, not now, when he was so close to having the kind of relationship he always wanted… and Spock responds, holding Jim tight, almost too tight, kisses becoming heated, sloppy in the haste to get more, deeper, reach exposed skin… Jim groans, overwhelmed by the flood of sensations, yelps when Spock tumbles them both to the ground.

It’s all too hard, too rough, and Jim tries to stop it, knows this isn’t real, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be, not after all this time spent waiting and not right before Spock is surely going to break it off and end everything, leaving them both devastated. He fights to pull free, manages long enough to gasp “Spock, wait, no, we need to talk,” but Spock only growls, shutting Jim up with a firm hand over his mouth and then Jim can’t make himself care anymore, can’t slow down, doesn’t want to slow down, doesn’t want Spock to stop and they are rolling on the ground, each fighting for the upper hand until Spock apparently has enough and flips them over so he’s on top, shoving Jim’s shirt up in almost the same motion. 

Jim goes very still as Spock nibbles his way down his neck, his chest, all the way down to his belly button. Only when his head starts to spin does Jim realize he has forgotten to breathe and sucks in air with a loud gasp. The sound makes Spock change his focus back to Jim’s mouth, kissing the breath right back out of him. Jim shoves his knee between Spock’s thighs and that’s all it takes for Spock to lose it.

Jim honestly couldn’t say how it happened but in mere seconds he is naked and so is Spock and they are grinding against each other as if their lives depend on it and Jim vaguely wonders how this came about, how Spock can be so insistent, so confident, dominant, when he has apparently never done this before. He tries to slow down, draw it out. He wants time to properly experience the sensations crashing over him, time to wrap his head around it all but then Spock grinds down with another viscous growl and seconds later Jim has come, like a teenager, far too soon, but then who can blame him, this is Spock, this is Spock and oh my God, he’s doing this with Spock!

Spock seems oblivious to Jim’s premature predicament but the situation is beyond surreal and Jim couldn’t care less. He changes the angle, brings his hands into it, touching Spock, urging him on, watching in awe as Spock’s eyes close, his breath falters and he goes stock still before Jim feels warmth spilling over his hand. Spock’s eyes open again, wide and stunned, staring down at Jim before he lets his trembling arms give way and collapses onto Jim, face buried in Jim’s neck. 

Jim weakly pats his shoulder. 

Holy Shit. Right. Wow. That was…. Damn. 

 

Jim is still out of breath when Spock slides off him and gets up.   
“This was entirely unintended”, he says, reaching for his underwear. 

“You don’t say”, Jim sighs, then has to grin at the look of puzzlement that crosses Spock’s face when he notices how his underpants are torn beyond wearability. Jim snatches them out of his hands, uses them to clean himself up somewhat and gives them back before slipping on his own, which are, surprisingly, in a much better state. Quite contrary to his uniform pants. Fantastic. It’s going to be fun dashing back to his quarters in those.

Spock looks slightly lost but eventually resigns himself to mimicking Jim’s actions and substituting his torn underwear for a towel before pulling on his own pants, which are hardly even damaged and how is that even fair?   
Spock apologetically tugs at Jim’s flapping front part, which doesn’t help at all, thank you very much. He gives up at last, looking at Jim with a sheepish half-smile Jim has never seen before and it makes him melt all over again. 

“Uhm… was this your first time?” he asks, taking Spock’s soiled underpants out of his hands and tucking them out of sight under his own shirt.   
Because he wants to spare Spock the embarrassment of walking through the ship with a pair of dirty underpants hidden away.   
And not at all because, depending on how this evening will to play out, he might need a memento.

“I have gathered certain experience with Nyota but… it has never come to… this…” The uncharacteristically vague gesture takes in his own as well as Jim’s disheveled appearance and probably encompasses everything from the moment they walked into the door. 

“Well then, how was it? Liked it?”

“I am uncertain. There is not enough data. I seem to have been completely out of control.”

“Really, Spock? I hardly noticed.” At Spock’s lost expression, he amends: “Sometimes, that’s kind of the point, you know?”

“I have difficulty to recall… it all happened extraordinarily quickly…”

“I’d love to show you nice and slow, Spock. I really would. There’s nothing I’d love to do more than show you how wonderful this could be. But I have a feeling it’s not going to happen, right?”

Jim fervently hopes for a negative answer but Spock won’t meet his eyes. So that’s that, then. He’s not even surprised, he’s been trying to prepare himself for this moment. Nothing this good could last forever, after all.   
Still, he feels a vise tightening around his chest and breathing is suddenly an effort. 

“You’ve decided, then. That’s good. A decision is good. Because not knowing, that’s the worst. I…”

“Jim”, Spock says and Jim shuts his mouth with a click. Rambling won’t get him anywhere.   
“It pains me to do this but I can no more deny my Vulcan heritage than I can ignore my human intuitions.”  
And that’s big, because until now, Spock has never openly admitted to having human intuitions.

“Bonding with T’Pring is the logical decision, I cannot find flaw in it. I have tried. But all my life I have strived to adhere to logic and although I have bent the rules, I cannot completely abandon them. I deeply regret the outcome and, Jim, rest assured, this has been the most difficult decision of my life. Joining Starfleet does in no way compare.”

And, though many accuse him of just that, Jim is not a selfish bastard. And sometimes, just sometimes, he knows just the thing to say, even if it’s difficult to speak past the lump in his throat.   
“I get it, Spock. I do. It’s who you are, it’s who I love. Logic and all. I wouldn’t want you to change for me. That wouldn’t work out, anyway. All I want is for you to be comfortable with yourself and your decision.”

Spock takes a step closer and, when Jim doesn’t draw back, carefully leans forward until their foreheads touch.   
“You are everything I could have ever wished for, Jim. I am profoundly sorry.”

Jim tries to detach himself from the sadness of the situation and savors what might well be their last intimate contact. Ever. 

Finally, Spock takes a step back.   
“If you wish for me to transfer off the ship, Jim, I understand. We might still encounter a cruiser or a trade ship which will be able to take us back to the colony.”

Jim can’t believe how much it hurts to hear Spock refer to himself and T’Pring as ‘us’ but he doesn’t hesitate. “No way, Spock. I may need time to adjust, but you’re the best First Officer in the Fleet. Do you really think I’d let you go? Besides, I still want you in my life. That’s not going to change.” 

Spock inclines his head, relief evident. “I am glad, Jim.”

There is not much else to say after that and Spock leaves, as is his way, without so much as a backward glance while Jim stands at the porthole for a long time, mourning yet another goodbye, another wish almost come true, snatched away at the last possible moment.   
At least he still has the Enterprise and no one can take her away from him for the next four or five years. 

 

Jim spends the next couple of weeks mostly in Bones’ company. Bones is always there when things get rough, providing distraction or, if that’s not enough, strong whisky. 

Jim and Spock have stopped socializing in their free time, at least for the time being, it’s just too weird. Too hurtful. But at least they are cordial and professional towards each other during their shifts. 

There is surprisingly little gossiping among the crew. But then, except for the bridge crew, hardly anyone had even noticed that their command team was anything more than just that, a command team. 

Spock is now usually eating lunch and dinner with T’Pring and although it’s like a physical blow to the stomach every time Jim sees them together, he’s determined to take it like a man, toughen it out until times heals the wounds as it’s supposed to do. 

Jim even accepts a very cautiously phrased request for a date with Sulu. 

It’s supposed to be very romantic. Sulu has apparently asked his roommate Chekov to spend the night somewhere else and prepared, or rather replicated, a full 5-course-dinner in his quarters. Complete with candlelight.  
But they are more like brothers than anything else and they end up lying on the floor all night, fancy dinner mostly forgotten, munching crisps, playing vid-games and telling each other dirty jokes. 

 

The situation does in fact improve a bit when Jim starts to actually like T’Pring. She’s not per se a bad person, just very Vulcan and disturbingly prejudiced against any other species, humans in particular. This has to be mostly attributed to her upbringing though, not to personal experience. She is proper, dependable and eager to learn and she’s soon showing signs of changing her views.   
She even tries to trade her life for that of a stranded shuttle crew consisting mostly of humans. Only a couple of months ago she would have deemed this illogical, as she was of the opinion that a Vulcan life easily outweighs that of four humans. Now, though, when questioned about her actions, she dryly states the usual Vulcan ‘the need of the many outweighs the need of the few’-phrase.

She and Spock seem to get along well, although Spock is far more reserved in her presence than when she’s not around. 

So Jim is more than happy, after a couple of months, to resume their twice-weekly chess matches as well as their regular workout sessions to provide Spock with an environment where he can be more himself. It makes Jim happy to know he’s the one in whose presence Spock relaxes, lets his guard down. That he is to Spock what even his wife-to-be cannot be. 

Jim never brings up T’Pring and Spock wouldn’t mention her himself, which is just as well to Jim. He has enough to deal with without thinking about the two of them together. 

 

Things settle down eventually. The crew is now far out of reach of any Starfleet communications and days alternate between boredom through interstellar warp-travel and hyper-activity when discovering new worlds or so far unknown sentient life-forms. 

Jim still catches himself staring at Spock’s ass or the column of his neck during boring bridge hours, the pain of lost opportunities ever present but less sharp as he revels in their friendship. A fleeting touch now and then, an inside joke Spock would only share with him… in so many small ways does the Vulcan show Jim how special he is to him and Jim is confident he can live with the situation. 

Before they know it, the first year of their mission has flown by. Everyone on board knows Spock and T’Pring will be bonded as soon as they come into reach of a Vulcan healer and no one thinks anything is out of the ordinary. But Jim remembers Spock telling him how the Elders have practically instructed them to have babies as soon as possible and he gets suspicious when, after more than a year of being officially together, T’Pring still doesn’t show any signs of pregnancy. 

Not that he complains. 

Pregnancies on a starship, although they can never be completely prevented, are frowned upon as an unnecessary hassle. The pregnant individual needs to be taken to the next starbase for delivery. If that is impossible due to the length of the deep space mission or the shortness of the gestation period of certain species, the baby has to be delivered on board, which throws the whole ship into a state of chaos until baby and parent(s) can be let off at the next convenient station. 

Still, with the situation with Spock and T’Pring as it is, Jim has fully expected a baby to come along in due time and he does have several back-up plans ready for the event. 

The fact that nothing like this happens is a bit of a disappointment, as babies was the prime argument for Spock’s choosing T’Pring over him. 

Jim thinks long and hard about how to approach the matter but, at their next chess match, he decides to do what he does best and jumps right in. 

“Say, Spock, about you and T’Pring. You guys have any problems?”

And Spock… he doesn’t look annoyed. If anything, he looks relieved! And yeah, Jim gets how much of an asshole he is, thank you very much. He’s probably the only person in the whole world with whom Spock would address private matters and he has practically put a ban on the topic. What an awesome kind of friend he is. Go get the medals out. 

“Indeed, we have experienced unforeseen difficulties”, Spock starts, but hesitates. 

Jim leans back, ignoring the chess set between them. “Go ahead. It takes a lot to shock me.”

“Indeed. Still, I should not talk about it. It is not decent.”

“Spock. You want me to retell my indecent, almost-sexual encounter with that Tellarite female in the mud-bath, first, to warm you up?”

Spock squeezes his eyes shut, which probably signals utter disgust. About the idea of him inside a Tellarite or a mud-bath, Jim can’t be sure. 

“T’Pring has experimented with different techniques but as I do not seem to be able to ejaculate she considers me malfunctioning.”

Jim has to draw from every ounce of discipline ever instilled in him in Academy training not to blurt ‘How dare that bitch?!?’ all over the place.   
Instead, he takes a deep breath and, very calmly, remarks: “Well, we both know that’s not true, don’t we?”

Spock gives him that half-shrug, seemingly fully immersed in the board, although they have stopped playing a while ago. 

“Well, uh… didn’t you tell her? That you can, I mean?”

The scandalized look he gets for that is all the answer Jim needs. 

“So. You can’t get it up with her but you didn’t have the slightest issue with that when you were all over me way back on the observation deck. What does that tell us?” He’s proud that it doesn’t come out smug, just observing and a bit curious.

Spock looks distinctly uncomfortable, avoiding Jim’s eyes as well as an answer.   
Instead, quietly: “Also, occasionally, I feel the urge to touch myself when thinking of you.”

“Oh.”

Oooooooooh. Not good. Absolutely not a good thing to imagine right now in the middle of a very serious friend-to-friend talk. Really. Not. Kindly shut up, brain. Please do.

He takes another deep breath, trying to distract himself from the idea of Spock… oh. God.

“So, uhm, did you?”

“Jim. Vulcans do not touch themselves. It serves no purpose.”

Yeah, right. At least the condescending tone has taken care of the most pressing problem. 

“Furthermore, I have never before or after experienced what I did that night. It might have been a one-time occurrence.”

“Uh-huh. If you’d tried it, Spock, you’d know. So, at least in your case, there would be a purpose. Strictly scientifically speaking, of course.”

Spock considers this for a while. The idea has clearly not occurred to him. Then: “Even if I conceded to your point, it is not a possibility. I have no experience and no example about how to continue in this matter.”

Argh. Jim squeezes his eyes shut and mentally bangs his head on the table. Repeatedly. He is human. There’s only so much he can withstand. And he isn’t even sure if Spock isn’t doing it on purpose. Well he probably isn’t. Then again, maybe he is. He’s inexperienced, sure, but certainly not stupid. 

Well, then. Let the games begin. 

“Do you trust me, Spock?” he asks and that’s rich, because right now, he isn’t even sure he should trust himself. 

Spock doesn’t even hesitate. “Utterly, Jim.”

Jim nods, fixes his eyes on Spock’s and slowly pushes himself a bit further away from the table. Spock stares at him, unblinking, as Jim lounges back and gently runs a hand over his abdomen, up to his neck, gradually back down over his chest, his navel, to his hip.  
Spock’s eyes snap down to Jim’s hand and stay there, transfixed, as Jim’s lazily strokes himself, stomach, hips, chest, nipples, back down again. Jim lets his eyes slip half-closed and rests his head back, waiting, waiting, taking his time until finally, slowly, without taking his eyes off Jim’s hand, Spock raises his own, carefully mirroring Jim’s actions. 

Jim allows himself a quick, satisfied smile, Spock isn’t paying attention to that part of his body, anyway. Quite contrary to himself, who keeps his eyes on Spock’s face for obvious reasons. It wouldn’t do to get prematurely excited, he needs to be the one in control here. Watching Spock’s face, though, has the advantage of seeing his mouth form a slightly surprised ‘oh’ when his hand finally follows Jim’s under his tunic. 

Jim keeps the pace slow, lets Spock get used to the feel of his own hand on his skin, stroking, petting, teasing a nipple, paying special attention to that spot right under his ribcage where he knows Spock is sensitive. Spock follows his every movement, getting more confident with each second and oh, Jim is enjoying himself. 

He chances a quick look down and the growing bulge in Spock’s crotch tells him he’s on the right track. Spock is now slouched in his chair in a similar fashion to Jim and it’s easy for them to slide a hand under the waistband of their pants, flicking the button open. 

Jim slides his hand in and out, still avoiding his penis and teasing instead the soft skin of his groin. His other hand comes up to keep up the attention to his nipples and chest and stomach and Spock is right there with him, looking for all the world as if this is the most wondrous thing he’s ever done.

When Jim finally palms his considerable erection through his shorts and Spock does the same, he has to shut his eyes at the sight of Spock’s breath catching and his cheeks turning slightly green. He thinks hard of Tellarite mudbaths and when he reopens his eyes, he realizes Spock’s gaze has travelled up and he’s now looking at Jim’s face with an openly awed expression. Jim smiles encouragingly and nods down to his hand. 

Spock obediently looks down again and watches how Jim slips his hand into his shorts. His own hands still and this is the first sign of hesitation. Jim, giving his own cock a little squeeze and a stroke, can’t help the low groan escaping his lips and Spock is jarred out of his immobility, dipping his own hand into his underpants and firmly grabbing his bulge. There’s a tiny gasp Spock can’t conceal and then Jim pushes his pants and underwear out of the way and takes himself in hand for Spock to see. 

Spock struggles with his clothing to do the same and Jim just can’t help but look. Spock’s penis is erect and tinged with green and he’s obviously waiting for Jim to lead on. Jim snaps his eyes back up to Spock’s face which is so full of wonder he could come right…

With a groan he lets his head fall further back, counting bolts and nuts in the ceiling while his hand sets a firm pace, flicking and squeezing just the way he likes it. When he chances another look, Spock’s eyes are closed halfway and his movements have gone out of synch with Jim’s. Jim bites his lips and keeps going, going, going, thinking Tellarite snouts and Scotty in a kilt and his Mom and then Spock shudders, and Jim is giving it all he has and Spock shudders again, and again and then suddenly goes very, very rigid. 

Jim gives himself a hard stroke, flicks his thumb just so, drinks in the view before him and finally, finally lets go, throwing his head back and letting himself come. 

When he’s caught his breath he looks up at Spock still staring at him, face completely blank, looking for all the world as if he has turned into a statue. 

“Well, that certainly proves something.” 

Spock blinks, visibly shaking himself back to the present. “I am unsure as to the significance of this occurrence”, he says levelly. 

Jim mentally headbangs the table again. Unsure of the significance? Still??

“Well, I suggest you take some time and figure it out, then”, Jim says nonchalantly, taking off his shirt and using it to clean himself up a little.

Spock nods once. “That would be for the best, I believe.”

He looks a little lost, dabbing at himself with the shirt Jim has thrown over, tucking himself back in and Jim feels really, honestly sorry. But there are some things Spock needs to figure out for himself or he might, one day, blame Jim for having pushed him in a certain direction and that’s just not on. 

 

Jim is fully prepared for two possible outcomes.

One: Spock’s human side takes precedence and he will finally realize he can’t be the heterosexual model-Vulcan he always wanted to be, that he has a right to be happy and he will come back to Jim.  
And oh, does Jim keep his fingers crossed for this option. Under the table, in his pockets, whenever he has time, wherever no one can see. 

Two: Spock’s Vulcan side wins out and he will find a way to work his experiences with Jim into his relationship with T’Pring to make it ‘functional’. Phantasies, most likely.

What he absolutely, completely, totally doesn’t expect, is this: 

“I have discussed recent developments with TPring and she is amenable to my suggestion of continuing our relationship in the manner of a troilism.”

Right. No one can blame him for the considerable amount of juice Jim has just spurted onto the table. Mostly through his nose. Which is gross. And hurts. Which would probably bother him more if he wasn’t currently in very real danger of suffocating.

Spock calmly stands, walks around the table and, after a painful but well-positioned smack between his shoulder blades, Jim is at least able to squeak “What??” through his coughing fit. 

“I said I have spoken to T’Pring and…”

“Yes, Spock, nonono!” Jim interrupts and waves his hand around to prevent Spock from saying anything else until he has enough breath back to talk. 

He keeps it up a bit longer than strictly necessary because really, what the fuck is he to say to this??

Well. There is something he knows: “Spock. You can’t go talking to your girlfriend about… your lover on the side or whatever I’m supposed to be, that’s… I don’t know, it’s just plain wrong!”

“There is no logic in secrecy. As soon as we are fully bonded I will not be able to keep strong emotions from her anymore. She would have known about you eventually.”

Jim winces at the matter-of-fact way Spock still takes his bonding to T’Pring for granted. No human side winning out and deciding in Jim’s favour, then. Crap. 

“We can’t do that, Spock.”

“I do not understand. Do you not find her attractive enough? I know you have had relationships with women in the past and by Vulcan standards, T’Pring is of exceptional integrity. I have also thought her looks closely follow the human ideal of beauty. 

“Yeah, sure, but…” Jim falters. Spock is right. T’Pring is beautiful, if quite the opposite of the blonde, naïve easy-to-lay types he used to go for. He might even get turned on if he manages to look past her stony expression and forget about how she has treated Spock in the past. He even likes her, for Christ’s sake! A little. And wouldn’t sharing Spock be better than not having him at all? He’s used to sharing, after all. Sharing his mother with space, journalists, and a never-ending string of boyfriends, his brother with vid-games and a girlfriend off-planet, his father’s memory with thousands of hero-worshippers, his Granddaddy Tiberius with the cousins he’d invited so much more often than Jim because he didn’t get sad just looking at them. The picture of his father with a billion strangers…

His head feels like it’s about to explode. Jim can actually feel the pressure build and he has never been more grateful for the chime which announces Chekov’s clumsy attempts to invite Jim to a highly illicit poker game involving money, drinks and stripping, without actually spelling it out in front of Spock. 

 

It’s Bones who sets his head straight. It’s always Bones who sets his head straight, of course. 

“Damn it, Jim”, he drawls, sitting behind his desk and massaging his temples while Jim is sprawled out on the floor on his back, arms folded behind his head. “You’ll always be the secret. Every public reception, he’ll go with her. Every family gathering, he’ll go with her. Every award-ceremony, everything concerning their future kids, any political functions, everything. You’ll always be on the outside, waiting for him to acknowledge you, the dirty little secret.”

Jim is just about to make some flippant remark when Bones, very quietly, adds: “You’re worth so much more, Jim”, and Jim is momentarily stunned into silence. 

“We could do it like an public triangle-relationship”, he muses eventually. “T’Pring won’t mind, all she wants out of this is status and children.”

“Oh, come off it, Jim. Why should Spock suddenly decide to stand by you if he doesn’t now? Especially if he gets what he wants the easy way? Besides, you’ll have no choice but to keep it secret. There are still more than a few important Federation members not very accepting of polygamy. Politics, Jim. Never been more important than now. Can’t have the flagship captain alienate the allies.”

Jim bites his lip, not responding. Bones is right, of course. Bones is always right. But there has to be a way out of this, there has to. 

Bones’ tone is surprisingly gentle. “Face it, Jim. If he doesn’t stand by you now, he never will. Delete this conversation as soon as it’s over, I never want to hear about it again but… Jim, you deserve to be with someone who stands by you, someone who puts you first. You deserve to make grand entrees at these receptions I talked about, with someone standing proudly at your side. You deserve to be openly and properly loved, for heaven’s sake. And if he won’t do that, he’s not good enough for you.” 

And that decides it. Because Bones is the first person who has ever been all Jim’s and the first person who has ever only had Jim’s best interests at heart and if he says it’s no-go, then it’s no-go. 

 

When he breaks it to Spock, that’s not what he says. What he says is “I’m selfish and I want you all to myself”. What he thinks is ‘Bones is right. I’ve got to get past all that bullshit from way back. I’m good at what I’m doing. People like me. People believe in me, they trust me. I don’t need charity and I’ve got to get past the point where I need someone to prove that I’m worth something.’

It still hurts more than anything he’s ever done, even more than letting Spock go the first time, because this time, he has a choice. And even though all Spock does in response is incline his head with a non-committal “I accept your decision”, Jim can actually sense the mighty effort it takes for the Vulcan to keep it together. 

He camps out on Bones’ fold-out for the best part of two weeks, after that. 

And then, disaster strikes.   
Well.   
Not literally. 

 

The Enterprise picks up a very faint distress signal coming from the very outmost fringes of Federation space. And although all Jim wants to do is get further away from the Federation and Vulcan healers and continue on their mission to explore unknown space, of course he can’t ignore a distress signal. Especially as, with the fleet decimated as it is and the source so far out, the Enterprise is probably the only ship to hear it. He really has no choice but turn around. 

The tiny planet sending the signal is called Neela by its inhabitants and has been accidentally visited by a federation delegation several decades ago. They are a friendly if slightly dull people that is nowhere near achieving warp capability (hence the ‘accidentally’). They have nothing of value to contribute but still expressed interest in joining the Federation after a spectacular shuttle crash had revealed the existence of such an organization. They were left with a Federation-compliant transmission system and a promise to be contacted soon. And then promptly forgotten. 

As it turns out, their emergency call isn’t stemming from any actual real life-or-death-threat after all. It’s rather due to a general confusion which was triggered by a fairly large delegation of Vulcans landing unannounced on Neela, declaring themselves their new neighbors and trying to start diplomatic relations. 

Due to their relatively short life expectancy of just about 20 years, none of the Neela currently alive has ever seen a member of any other race and, until just a few days ago, hadn’t even been aware something like Vulcans existed. In their panic and confusion, they had pushed about every available button on the foreign apparatus that had been sitting, untouched, in their main city hall for generations. After all, legend had it that it was left to them by a godlike people who had promised to help and protect them.

By the time the Enterprise arrives, the situation is mostly under control. The Vulcans have convinced the Neela of their friendly intentions and talks between the Neela Clan Chiefs and the Vulcan Ambassadors are well under way. 

Jim does beam down to make sure the Neela are ok with the intrusion, won’t blame it on the Federation and also to prepare the huge amount of paperwork to explain how it is possible that the Prime Directive has been broken. For the second time on the same planet. While the Neela take it all in stride, it’s the Vulcans who are distinctly annoyed at the Federation’s record-keeping. Neela is listed as a planet on which First Contact has been established long ago, no one had ever bothered to follow up on that and make sure the knowledge was not lost or had the record altered. The Vulcan Ambassadors have walked unknowingly into a violation of the Prime Directive and are not amused. 

Jim is even less amused when, after walking back from a tough meeting with Ambassador Tron, the delegation’s leader, he bumps into Sarek. Just his luck. Because honestly, what are the chances?

Fortunately, Spock has stayed on the ship and it’s just him and Uhura, who looks very much as if she wants nothing more than for the sticky, black soil of Neela to swallow her up. Whole.  
If she can make this happen through sheer force of will, Jim will be right along, thank you very much. 

“Captain Kirk.” The salute. A small bow towards Uhura. “Lieutenant.”

“Uh. Ahm. Hello”, Jim stutters while Nyota executes a beautiful little bow, a perfect salute and says a few words in Vulcan in a speed Jim can’t even begin to follow.   
He gapes at her, amazed at her ability to change tracks lightning fast from startled embarrassment to polite professionalism before he remembers his own manners. He raises his hand, spreads the fingers in just the right way and slowly but very clearly intones his “Dif tor heh smusma.”

“This is an unexpected but very fortunate occurrence”, Sarek says while they continue together through the city streets. “I presume my son is with you?”

“Uh, yeah. On the ship. I left him in command.” Jim mentally curses his inability to create proper sentences in this man’s presence, but frankly, Sarek intimidates him. And who’s to blame him, with the knowledge of the secret history between himself and the Ambassador’s son. He feels as if Sarek’s knowing eyes could see right through him, see his love, his desire for Spock even though he has locked those feeling safely into a distant corner of his heart.   
It’s logical, though, for Sarek to want to see his son whenever the possibility arises. 

“Extraordinarily fortunate. There is a healer in our delegation. His wife-to-be is with him?”

Jim’s heart plunges. Of course, Sarek knows nothing of what has happened in the meantime and it doesn’t make any difference, anyway, because they are exactly at the point Sarek expects them to be. Ready to bond at the first possible opportunity. 

Jim is half-furious about how Sarek doesn’t seem to care about actually seeing Spock and half-terrified of him asking about babies. But then, a man like Sarek, with eyes and ears everywhere, probably doesn’t need to ask. He would know if the Enterprise had docked somewhere to let a pregnant crew-member off. 

Uhura’s fingers close lightly around Jim’s elbow and this grounds him enough to swallow hard and say: “Yes. She is. I will ask Spock to contact you.”

“That will be agreeable. I will start arrangements immediately. Thank you for granting us the necessary time, Captain.” With that, he quickens his step and vanishes elegantly down a side street. 

“Bloody hell.”

“Well said, Captain.” Uhura smiles ruefully at him and Jim only just now realizes she no longer harbors any bad feelings against him. Her gaze is full of compassion and understanding and he makes a mental note to ask her one day how she did it. Because for the life of him he can’t imagine how it could ever be possible to get over Spock. 

 

Spock is very quiet the next couple of days. Understandable, considering the reality of the situation must have hit him quite unexpectedly, too. He seems to avoid Jim and spends a lot of time with T’Pring. Jim would very much like to talk to him but he doesn’t have the slightest idea what he would say, so he just leaves him be. 

The Neela have provided a patch of suitable ground and the Vulcans are busy making preparations. 

“When members of the old houses got bonded, it used to be a grand affair”, Spock explains on one of the rare occasions when they are walking alone together on the day before the ceremony. “Relatives from all over Vulcan would travel to the designated place, almost the whole city would turn up to witness. It is why the ceremony always takes place at sunset, so the labors of the day will not be interrupted. It was one of the few instances when Vulcans used to socialize.”

“So you get cheated out of the big event, here. I’m sorry.”

“It is just as well. With the Vulcan race decimated as it is, trying for a traditional ceremony could only have ended in a very pathetic manner.”

Jim briefly touches Spock’s shoulder in sympathy before they have to part ways again. He to go to the bridge to finalize beaming procedures and Spock to prepare for his big day ahead. 

He’s almost around the corner when Spock speaks up once more. “Will you be there, Jim?”

Jim stops in his tracks but doesn’t turn around. He knows it’s his duty, as Captain and as a friend, but he isn’t sure he can do it. He’s been thinking on and off about falling conveniently ill just before the ceremony starts. 

Spock’s voice is closer now, right behind his back and very quiet, tentative. “By tradition, the male is accompanied by his closest friend.”

Jim turns around and gives Spock a warm smile. “Of course I will be there. Promise.” 

How could he ever refuse this man?

 

A large, flat surface has been strewn with red sand. The Vulcans, dressed elaborately in silver, the males with variedly colored sashes around their waists, stand rigidly around it. A number of feathery Neela who couldn’t be kept away despite the Vulcans’ best efforts, are lingering in the background. 

Jim and his command team have, at the invitation of Spock and against the will of the majority of the Vulcans, joined Sarek at the edge of the site. They were not allowed to bring their universal translators.

Spock, surprisingly wearing his usual blue uniform but with all his medals pinned to it, is standing next to a huge metal gong, visibly shaking and looking quite out of it. Jim stares, trying to make eye contact, to make sure he’s ok, but Spock doesn’t look his way. 

Sarek steps up to Jim. “He is not in the Blood Fever, even if it may appear so”, he says quietly, for only Jim to hear. “We merely had to put him into a slight trance to smooth the proceedings.”

Jim has no idea what Sarek is talking about but he is pretty sure he doesn’t like it. “You are sure he is doing this of his own free will, are you?” Jim bites out and Bones lays a calming hand on his shoulder. 

“Yes. We have talked about it at length and the preservation of our race is of outmost importance. To him as much as to me.”

“I’m glad. Because he doesn’t look very happy, there.”

Bones grabs him tighter and moves his lips very close to Jim’s ear. “You know he isn’t. Leave it be. Let’s not make a scene. For his sake.”

Jim and Sarek are both saved from an answer when the jingle of many small bells grows audible and soon, two Vulcans carrying a sedan chair come into view. T’Pring looks absolutely stunning in a silver dress, with her hair ornately done up. She is the most beautiful woman Jim has ever seen and she’s sitting in that chair like a queen. Spock’s shaking grows more pronounced. The Vulcans set the litter down and the healer steps forward, extending a hand to help T’Pring off her elevated position. She steps down with perfect, delicate movements and is lead over to where Spock stands by the gong. 

Spock looks small and insignificant in just his plain blue uniform shirt and his black regulation pants and Jim wonders why he didn’t at least wear his dress uniform. Maybe it would have made him seem more important somehow, less like the most replaceable pawn in a game he doesn’t understand. 

T’Pring and Spock stand facing each other, expressions blank. Spock has stopped shaking but Jim can see how much effort it takes him, his hands are clenched into painfully tight fists. It takes all of Jim’s resolve and a good portion of Bones’ arm around his shoulder, the other hand fisted into Jim’s tunic, to keep him from just running over and taking Spock into his arms, making the hurt go away even if it’s just for the few seconds before all hell would break lose, surely. 

The healer raises his hands and touches his fingers to the couple’s faces in a complicated pattern. It was quiet before, but now it seems as if everyone present is holding their breath. T’Pring stares straight ahead with unseeing eyes, but Spock’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut, his posture is impossibly tense and the tremor in his hands unmistakable. 

After a long minute, the healer lowers his hands and makes a loud declaration in Vulcan. A low murmur goes through the crowd and Jim rather feels than hears Sarek’s exhale next to him. “They are still compatible”, he explains to Jim. “The ceremony is allowed to continue.”

Spock moves his head slightly towards Jim, eyes resting on him for the briefest moment before he looks straight forward at T’Pring again. He has bitten his lip. There is blood on his lower lip. Jim’s eyes prickle. He can’t. He just can’t.   
Bones’ arm moves from his shoulders to his waist, pulling him even closer. “If you collapse now, I can take you away and blame it on the composition of air”, he whispers. “It will be ok.”   
Jim shakes his head vigorously. He has made a promise. He will see this through. He will see this through and know that nothing in his life can ever be worse than this. Ever.   
“Ok then, but at least breathe. Please, try to breathe normally.” Jim gasps in a huge lungful of air. He hadn’t even realized he’d started to hyperventilate, the air not making it properly into his lungs anymore. He feels dizzy and disoriented and he is pretty sure he wouldn’t be upright anymore if it weren’t for Bones’ arm. It’s just fortunate that all eyes are riveted on the proceedings and no one is paying any attention to him. 

A Vulcan with a black cloth tied over his nose and mouth walks over and hands Spock a mallet. Spock’s eyes dart ever so briefly over to Jim before he takes a huge swing and rings the gong. The sound takes a long time to die down. Spock hands the mallet to T’Pring and Jim takes a moment to marvel how strong Vulcan women must be. Because that thing is big and T’Pring, with her delicate figure, swings it as effortlessly as Spock has done. 

She gives the mallet back to Spock and the procedure repeats itself. A glance at Jim, a little bit longer this time, ringing the gong, back to T’Pring who does the same. The mallet goes back to Spock. Who pauses. Turns around. He’s shaking again and it’s getting worse by the second. His eyes sweep over everyone present, lingering on Uhura for a moment, then his father and finally coming to rest on the entity that is Jim and Bones. 

T’Pring says something. Spock glances at her, but immediately looks back at Jim.   
The Vulcans fidget.   
Sarek draws breath several times as if to say something but doesn’t speak up.   
The Healer looks undecided.   
T’Pring raises her delicate small hand with the perfectly manicured fingernails and guides Spock’s chin so he is looking at her again. He draws a breath, visibly controlling himself. The shaking subsides somewhat. He raises the mallet.   
The Vulcans calm down. 

Spock takes a step back and winds up for a mighty swing. Jim feels bile rise in his throat. The Vulcans hold their breath in anticipation. Bones curses lowly under his breath. Uhura doesn’t bother wiping the tears from her face. 

Spock drops the mallet. 

A murmur rises up among the Vulcans. T’Pring stares down at the mallet, the healer takes a step towards them and above it all is Sarek’s clipped, sharp voice: “Spock!”  
Spock looks at his father, utterly devastated, shaking like a leaf, and mouths a Vulcan word. 

The healer spins around and everyone is now looking at Sarek. As if he could stop the unspeakable proceedings. “Spock cha’Sarek!” Sarek’s voice is stern, obviously trying to keep the situation under control. He takes a step towards his son who flinches away, the word he was mouthing now audible: “Kal-if-fee! Kal-if-fee, Kal-if-fee, Kal-if-fee….”

The Vulcans are in uproar, trying to hide it in their distinct, Vulcan way. The healer and Sarek are exchanging rapid fire words, T’Pring interjecting every once in a while. And in the middle of all this, there is Spock, breathing hard, fingers pressed together in front of his face and uttering the same words over and over. 

Jim breaks away from Bones, making a beeline for Spock but is intercepted by the masked Vulcan. The very menacing looking masked Vulcan. Jim doesn’t care, his heart is hammering a staccato beat in time with his brain chanting ‘spockspockspock’ and he won’t be stopped by a giant in a ridiculous mask. He’s gearing up to kick him in the groin because that always works with humanoid species, when Bones catches up and holds him back. He mindlessly fights against his friend, but then Scotty und Sulu are there and Chekov is standing in the background looking frightened and confused and he realizes what a sight he must be to his crew and immediately stops. He’s in charge. He can’t lose it like that. “Ok. Ok! I’m fine. Staying out of it. Fine.”

Bones carefully loosens his hold. Uhura jogs over from where she’s been trying to get closer to the discussing Vulcans. 

“What’s going on?” Sulu asks, when she’s joining them.

“Looks like Spock has just refused to marry her”, Bones huffs. 

“Yes, thank you Doctor, we all gathered that much. Question is, what happens now?” Jim looks at Uhura who shakes her head in frustration. “I understand the words, but not the traditions. Apparently the female is allowed to ‘challenge’ if she doesn’t want to be bonded to the male but it’s unheard of for a male to call a challenge.”

The gong rings again and Jim feels a chill down to his toes. But it’s not Spock who’s swung the mallet, it’s Ambassador Tron, the ancient leader of the Vulcan delegation. The ruckus promptly dies down. 

Tron issues a string of words and Jim more than ever curses the fact that they were not allowed to bring their UT’s. He edges closer to Uhura. “He’s asking Spock if he really refuses the bond with T’Pring”, Uhura whispers. 

Spock straightens, clasps his hands behind his back, lifts his chin defiantly and, answers, very clearly and in Standard: “Yes.”

Another string of words. “He asks who his…” Uhura hesitates, searching for an approximation. “… champion? It may be champion. Yes, champion. Who his champion is.”

Spock’s eyes lock with Jim’s and stay there. “Captain James Tiberius Kirk.”

There definitely are shocked gasps and not only from the Enterprise crew. 

Tron whirls around, staring at Jim. “It is your wish to bond with this… human?” He’s switched to English now, but Jim isn’t sure anymore if he wants to hear the end of this.

“Yes.” Spock’s voice is firm, no trace of the shaking left.

“This human male?”

“Yes.”

Everyone seems to be shocked into silence. And staring at Jim. 

“Is this your wish also?” Tron demands of Jim.

‘Oh, geez, yes, absolutely!’ Jim says, but no sound is coming out. He clears his throat, swallows thickly, tries again. “Yes.” It sounds croaked and weak, but it’s a sound at least. 

“It is Kal-if-fee, then. The challenge. Captain Kirk, you will fight T’Pring ak’Tris for the right to bond Spock cha’Sarek.” He is smug if Jim has ever seen a smug Vulcan. Sure of the fact that Jim won’t stand a chance. Which he won’t. His heart is beating hard in his throat. Everything happens much too fast and only his command training allows him to keep remotely calm. 

“I cannot fight against one of my crew”, he says at the same time as Spock exclaims “No!”

“She is not one of your crew”, Ambassador Tron states. “She is on board the Enterprise as a civilian.”

Fuck, he’s right. 

“I relinquish my claim.” Without anyone noticing, T’Pring has stepped up next to the Ambassador. 

He startles visibly, turning towards her. “T’Pring, daughter of Vulcan, you have every right to claim a suitably-minded male to exert your duty to your people.”

“I do. Current proceedings are regrettable. But I will not fight my Captain.”

More gasps, whispers. Jim chances a glance towards Sarek. The proud Vulcan’s face has gone grey, he is actively leaning onto a rock outcropping. 

“So you are putting the safety of this human above your duties and rights as a member of Vulcan society?

“In this instance, I have no choice. The Enterprise crew has taken me among their ranks with exceptional hospitability. We have fought many battles side by side. I cannot kill their Captain.”

Oh, for the love of… wait, what? Kill??

Tron nods and turns towards Spock “Is this your final decision?”

Spock bows slightly. “It is.”

The Ambassador hesitates. Then: “I will ask you once again, Spock cha’Sarek and think well of your answer. If you refuse your heritage and your people, you will no longer be considered Vulcan. You will be regarded as an outcast and you will not be allowed to set foot onto Vulcan ground again. Is this your final decision?”

Now that he has made the decision, Spock stands proud and confident as ever. No trace left of the shaking and the trancelike state of before. “I understand, Ambassador. I regret the outcome, but it is my final decision.”

Jim finally finds his voice. “Spock, that’s crazy, don’t do that!”

Spock looks at him and his eyes are full of warmth. “But I want to do it, Jim.”

Ambassador Tron raises his voice. “In that case, Spock…”

“Kroykah!” It’s Sarek. “Stop.” He steps forward. Looks from Tron to Spock and back. Visibly braces himself “I, too, have once chosen a human against tradition and law. How can I begrudge my son the same privilege?”

“Your choice was logical, Sarek. A human wife to study human traditions.”

“No, it was not.” Sarek takes a breath. Straightens himself. “It was emotional. Purely emotional. I was in love. If you cast Spock out, you have to do the same to me.” 

You could have heard a pin drop.

It is an outrageous declaration to make for a Vulcan, Jim knows, and his heart goes out to the man who has never shown much fatherly love for Spock but who now, in the worst of times, stands by his son against much of what remains of the Vulcan elite. 

It’s probably his turn to say something now. “I would never ask this of you, Spock”, it’s almost a whisper but it’s so quiet his words carry to the farthest corner. “You know that. But if you want my opinion, I am not sure how desirable it is to be part of a people who lose no time casting you out for wanting to be yourself, happy, and with the one you love.”

“This is about the survival of our race” Tron protests.

“The hell it is”, Jim snaps. “Your race can spare one unwelcome half-Vulcan. This is all about control-mania and plain racism! Besides, Spock has already saved more Vulcan lives than he could ever produce children. If you ask me, he’s more than done his duty!”

Spock quickly strides over to stand next to Jim, shoulder to shoulder. He looks at him and one corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “Thank you, Jim. I believe you have made your point.”

He controls the half-smile before turning back to Ambassador Tron. “Maybe the case of our people would be better served with allowing procreation for couples with non-compatible minds and legalizing interracial marriage without cause.”

Sarek steps up to Jim and Spock. “Without wanting to be disrespectful Ambassador Tron, my son might have a point.” He bows, both hands in his wide sleeves. “I will no longer consider myself Vulcan, as per your request. I am sure Captain Kirk will agree to host me on the Enterprise in exchange for T’Pring until it is convenient for him to let me disembark. Will you not, Captain?”

“It is my honor, Ambassador”, Jim grins. 

Tron seethes. “Ambassador Sarek, this is an emotional response.”

“As I have recently admitted I am prone to emotional responses, this should not come as a surprise”, Sarek intones evenly, bowing again.

There is a commotion among the observing Vulcans and one particularly petite female steps forward. “I do not believe we can relinquish somebody like Ambassador Sarek and I, for my part, am amenable to accept his son’s decision.”

There’s another murmur among the Vulcans, then a tall male steps forward. “So do I.”

T’Pring, head held high, walks over to stand on Spock’s other side. “So do I.”

One for one the Vulcans join the group of Jim, Spock, Sarek and the Enterprise crew, pledging their alliance with Sarek and Spock until only Ambassador Tron is left.

“The High Council will be called to judge on this situation straight upon our return”, he spats, turning on his heel and disappearing among the rocks towards the settlement. 

There is undecided shuffling all around until Bones claps his hands together.   
“That’s it then”, he calls merrily. “No one being outcast today!”   
He turns to Jim and Spock. “Well congratulations, Jimmy! You finally got your Drama Queen!” 

“Doctor, must you really?” Spock asks, exasperated, while Jim is too busy grinning from ear to ear to think of any response. 

“Oh yes, Spock. But don’t you worry, in that respect, he matches you peg for peg. Pot, kettle. You know?” He grins and slaps Jim’s shoulder before turning around and making shooing motions with his hands. “Off you go, everyone, show’s over, no more to see here, chop-chop!”

Slowly the crowd dissipates until finally it’s just Jim, Spock and a couple of Neela who are still hovering in the background, trying to make sense of the situation. 

Jim turns toward Spock. “Gee Spock, never one to do things quietly, are you?” Spock lifts his hand and gently traces Jim’s jawbone, hand coming to rest on his collar bone. “No. Problem?”  
“Hell no”, Jim chuckles and leans in so their foreheads touch. “What’s the High Council gonna say?”   
“I do not know. If my father stands firm, I believe they will let it drop. He is highly respected and they cannot afford to lose him.”   
They stay like that for several long moments, breath mingling, while the situation sinks in.   
“I would have never thought him capable of such a performance.”  
“Neither would I. I wish my mother could have witnessed it.”  
Jim fists one hand firmly into Spock’s tunic, burying the other in his hair and just holds on while they breathe together. 

“What a rollercoaster”, Jim finally whispers and Spock inches forwards ever so slightly until their lips meet for a soft, tender kiss.   
“Do we bond now?” he asks, when Spock pulls back the tiniest bit. 

Spock almost laughs. Jim can actually feel his shoulders shake. “No, Jim. Not yet. I have had enough excitement for the time being. Besides, despite the impressive demonstration for my cause, I more than doubt that we would find a healer to perform the ritual.”

Jim laughs too, a little relieved. He wouldn’t have said no, never in a million years now that he’s finally got what he wanted, but he isn’t sure he could have handled it right now, on top of everything. Sensory overload, thank you very much. “So what do we do now?”

“Now?”

Spock pulls him closer, one hand sneaking under Jim’s shirt to rest on his bare back, the other entwining with Jim’s, fingers rubbing against each other. 

“Right now?”

Jim nods, drowning in those dark eyes full of affection until his own close of their own volition when Spock’s lips meet his again, this time more demanding. It’s a deep, sensual kiss and Jim is reluctant to let go when Spock pulls back. 

“Right now, Jim, we enjoy life.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have firmly resolved never to put myself through writing a story ever again, so this may well have been my last. Still, I would love to know if you liked it!


End file.
